


fake.

by thiyaksokhae



Category: GOT7
Genre: (attempted humor), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Crushes, Everyone is Emotional As Fuck, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Markjin, Multi, Slow Burn, So many cliches, Swearing, The Female OCs are your QUEENS, cliches, do these convos make any sense, lotsa naps, nothing makes sense, once again i am trash, side 2jae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-01-19 19:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 146,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12416772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiyaksokhae/pseuds/thiyaksokhae
Summary: sometimes the person who yells at you for holding up the theme park line also turns out to be the one that you want to hear yell “i love you” at you.(alternatively: the one where mark thanked jackson for setting him up on a date with the member of the wrong gender.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) this is my first got7 fic, and one that started off on a whim, so it has basically no plot, but is more like a bunch of plots messily strung together. it's just a way for me to escape the world and be happy.  
> 2) other than the fact that this is supposed to be set in seoul, all the settings and places mentioned in this are completely fictional. also, i didn't research on the korean education system because i'm lazy, so i based the fic on the system i'm used to.  
> 3) this is an extremely long fic and i am a really slow writer, but i will try to update every two weeks.  
> 4) hope you like it, loves <3

  
**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_10:23_ **

  


“what do you mean, _last minute change of plans_?"

 

jinyoung readjusts his phone which is sandwiched between his face and his shoulder as he slams his foot down on the breaks, drawing up at a signal that decides to turn red just as he reaches it. his fingers tap an impatient beat on the steering wheel as he listens to the response of the person on the other end of the line, a deep frown drawn across his face.

 

"hyung _, i’m really sorry_ ," comes the small reply.

 

“youngjae-ah.” jinyoung takes an audible breath as he runs his fingers through his jet-black hair, partially annoyed at the signal which is stubbornly refusing to turn green but mostly annoyed with having been ditched at the last second. “‘last minute change of plans’ is the stupidest fucking excuse you could come up with. have fifteen years of friendship and all my caring all shrunk down to this small measure?”

 

“ _you’re doing that thing where you’re, aren’t you? from your books? or plays? which one this time? the merchant of venice_?” challenges youngjae.

 

the ravenet flinches at the horrible literary inaccuracy. “pathetically, awfully off. it’s actually adapted from julius caesar.” he blinks in mild surprise as the signal turns to green, having resigned to accepting that he’ll be stuck waiting at that intersection for the rest of eternity. as a result, he’s a second too late to press the accelerator, earning him a loud honk from the car behind him. he wants to open the window and tell the owner of the car not to be so fucking impatient or else his appointment in hell will be moved up a few places, but it’s hot outside and the air-con is billowing cool air into his face, so he desists. besides, he has more important matters to deal with. “can you tell me the actual reason why you’re leaving me alone?”

 

“ _hyung_ …”

 

“ _alone_ , choi youngjae. i’m fucking abandoned, isolated, forsaken, solitary—i could go on for fucking forever.” jinyoung guesses that youngjae is flinching on the other end of the line. he generally tries not to swear around youngjae, but he can’t seem to quit the habit of saying the word ‘fucking’ way too many times when he’s angry, no matter who is on the receiving end of the anger. “you just got done with your mid-sems and i wanted to be a good hyung and take you out for a treat and you fucking call me at the last minute and say you can’t come?!” his voice raises about three pitches by the end of the sentence, and youngjae would’ve laughed, but that would’ve been the equivalent to poking a sleeping dragon in the eye, and the blond knew better than to do that. the older continues, in the same high pitch, “what am i supposed to do with the tickets?” a male pedestrian signals to jinyoung to not talk on the phone and drive simultaneously, and the ravenet, very maturely, ignores him and drives on.

 

“ _hyung, he called this morning_...” strings of desperation wind themselves onto youngjae’s words, clinging like spun sugar onto profiteroles as he struggles to explain himself.

 

jinyoung lets out a sigh of annoyance when he realizes who the younger is talking about, and the annoyance doubles when he realizes that the very person who is being referred to should've been coming along with them that very day, but when jinyoung had asked him, he said he had _plans_. with a bite to his words, he asks, “he, who? _he_ could mean anyone, jae! a fucking serial killer, our chemistry teacher—”

 

“ _first of all, your major is literature and you minor is mech. you don’t even take chemis_ —”

 

“i fucking know what i take, jae,” snaps jinyoung impatiently. he turns his indicator on, turning into his apartment complex’s parking lot. “look, i’m home now, and i’ll be along to pick you up in ten minutes unless you tell me who _he_ is. if you don’t tell me, i’ll just assume it’s someone dangerous and realize that the safest thing to do is drag you along to the thrill zone with me, no fucking excuses.”

 

“ _don’t say the word ‘fucking’ so much_.”

 

normally, youngjae’s little reprimanding voice, that didn’t make an appearance very often, would’ve caused jinyoung to melt into a puddle and gush about how he had the cutest dongsaeng in the world and how _of course, he’ll do anything for him_ , but today is an exception. he was really looking forward to this trip. “i fucking can and i fucking will if i fucking want to.”

 

“ _hyung_ …”

 

“you’ve started fucking every sentence so far with ‘hyung…’”

 

“ _what else do i say_?”

 

“tell me who the fuck _he_ is!”

 

“ _but you already know_!” no lies there, but that's not going to get the older to drop the argument, and youngjae very well knows that, but he thought it had been was worth a shot.

 

jinyoung slams his car door a little unnecessarily loud. the fresh scent of spring hits him in the face with full force, almost causing him to smile. he’s a nature lover by nature. instead, he slings his satchel over his shoulder, a small sound of exasperation escaping the back of his throat. “honey, if you’re going to date a boy, you’re going to have to get used to saying. his. fucking. name.”

 

a bunch of noises sounding like a live version of a key-smash escape youngjae’s lips, making jinyoung grimace and hold the phone away from his ears.

 

“ _we’re not dating! this is just a first date_ —”

 

“oh, _puh_ -lease, jae. _not dating_? what about the fact that you were unofficially dating for two fucking years? and what about that beautiful awkward confession that i had the pleasure of witnessing? the only reason you two haven’t had a legitimate _date_ yet is because i’ve always been there. that and the fact that both of you are too lazy to move your asses and not just hang out at the apartment. you've been dating the whole fucking time, shut up. and yes, the other day, he referred to you as _his boyfriend_.” jinyoung lets a little giggle spill out from between his lips, camouflaging his sadism as he unconsciously brings his hand up to cover his mouth as he silently laughs.

 

more key-smash sounds.

 

“his _name_ , jae. say his name.”

 

“ _what, you don’t know the name of the person you share an apartment with_?” youngjae’s tone has morphed into one more challenging, thick with bravado as he tries to wheedle himself out of jinyoung’s interrogation.

 

jinyoung punches the down button as he waits for the elevator, planning to make his way up to that very shared apartment. he hums obnoxiously, a lilt to his voice as he says, “i know his name. i know his stupid name way too well. my question is, do _you_ know his name?”

 

“ _hyung_!"

 

“jae!”

 

the younger clicks his tongue in a resigned albeit mildly annoyed manner, and says in a voice barely sounding like his own, “all right, fine. i’m going to the han river with jaebum hyung, okay?”

 

“jaebum _hyung_? haven’t graduated to oppa yet?” snickers jinyoung, walking into the elevator and pressing the button for the fourth floor. he switches his now-warm phone to his left ear, wiping off the sweat around his right ear with his sleeve.

 

“ _you’re sick_.”

 

“and you’re fucking adorable. but that doesn’t mean that i’ve forgiven you for ditching me today.” jinyoung has always been outright when it comes to the amount that he loves youngjae, and that in itself has often resulted in the younger getting away scotfree on counts that would've caused the ravenet to blow up had it been any other person on that receiving end. however, jinyoung knows that the result of this conversation will be just like always, and he'll end up letting youngjae off. old habits die hard.

 

“ _hyung, i’ll make it up to you. just go without your favorite dongsaeng for once._ ” youngjae’s playing the cute teasing card, trying to lighten up the conservation, hoping it'll lighten jinyoung’s mood.

 

“who said you were my favorite?” scoffs the older.

 

“ _you say it all the time_.” again, not a lie.

 

“am i supposed to go to the thrill zone by myself? how will i enjoy myself?” whines jinyoung with the tone of a clingy five-year-old whose bedtime has rolled around.

 

“ _call someone_.”

 

“as i never fail to remind you, as i never fail to be reminded of, i only fucking have two friends, for not many can match up to my high standard,” declares the older dramatically. the elevator dings and jinyoung steps out, a long exhale fluttering over his lips. he stops right outside his apartment, intending to finish the conversation before having to confront his useless flatmate. “never mind, i’ll just go on my own. if anyone asks, i’ll just say i have an awful best friend who ditched me to go out with my other best friend. even ron wouldn’t ditch harry if he had a date with hermione.”

 

“ _oh, please. that boy was whipped_.”

 

 _much like you_ , jinyoung is tempted to say, but he contains himself with an affectionate eye-roll. “but of course he wouldn’t!”

 

“ _no, actually speaking, harry would get it.”_

 

“i’m not being harry in this situation,” says jinyoung, a small smile on his lips.

 

“ _either way, you can’t date my sister_!” whines youngjae playfully.

 

“either way, i do not possess the sexual orientation to do that...also, you can’t make jaebum hyung hermione because we both know he’s not smart enough to deserve that. i mean, he’s a nerd of the highest order, and i know you’re whipped for him, but between the three of us, even _you_ should admit—”

 

“ _all right, all right, all right_!” a small giggle. then a short pause. “ _why are we still talking_?”

 

“oh, wow, now you’re _why are we still talking_ zoning me? i am offended, choi youngjae. fuck you. have fun on your date. i know i shall, even though i don’t have a fucking date!” huffs the older. getting offended easily is one of his talents that he never mentions in his curriculum vitaes.

 

“ _hyung! i—_ ”

 

_click.  
_

 

jinyoung smiles in vindictive pleasure. he goes to put his key in the lock, only to watch the door open right at that moment. a boy the same age as the ravenet opens the door, his oak-brown locks roughly parted and swept to the side, making it look like he hasn’t put much effort into the way it looks, but jinyoung would bet anything that it took him at least twelve minutes to get it that exact way. the brunet wears a checked red-and-black hoodie with black jeans, cross earrings dangling from his ears and a bright grin resting on his face.

 

“jinyoung-ah! got my books?” asks the boy, grabbing the satchel from the ravenet.

 

“patience, jaebum hyung!” jinyoung tugs his satchel back from the older, taking it off his shoulder at an aggravatingly slow pace just to annoy jaebum. “yeah, i got your books.”

 

“thanks a ton!” grins jaebum, checking the contents of the satchel before chucking it onto the couch in the middle of the living room.

 

jinyoung quirks an eyebrow. it’s barely ever that he sees jaebum this jovial. he can’t help but think that the prospect of a date with a certain blond he knows could be the reason behind the mood change. speaking of which—

 

“hey, i was speaking to youngjae while i was driving,” says jinyoung, trying to not let a mixture of teasing, anticipation and irritation surface in his tone and give him away.

 

the older boy’s head flicks up from his phone. he tries to sound nonchalant as he responds, saying, “youngjae? didn’t he get done with his end-sems yesterday? i should call him, maybe ask him how they went.”

 

jinyoung tries to frown but the only thing that flits across his face is amusement. jaebum is _such_ a bad liar. “you pull off lying worse than I pull off athletics.” jaebum looks confused. jinyoung finds watching the older’s acting painful. “yeah, I know you two are going out today,” he deadpans.

 

shock, surprise and guilt take over jaebum’s expression alternately before he settles with a sheepish smile. “i was going to tell you.”

 

“ _rea-lly_?” asks jinyoung, incredulousness leaching into both syllables as the ravenet’s eyebrows fly upwards. “highly doubted. first of all, i’m disappointed in you. you didn’t even lecture me about not talking on the phone and driving. a prime example of how the simplest mention of a person's significant other clouds judgment. second of all, i know you’d have even told me until after the date was over, because then i wouldn’t have a chance to sing the _jaebummie hyung’s got a date_ song.”

 

“jinyoung-ah, you made that up during second year,” groans jaebum, who had evidently been hoping that the younger would have forgotten about that dreaded song. “of high school.”

 

“that song is special to our friendship! that was how we became friends! i’m wounded! _wounded._ do you not even remember? and it was barely a couple years ago.” jinyoung throws out a series of hand gestures to punctuate every syllable said and ends his performance with his hand theatrically clutching his heart.

 

“six years ago, actually. and that song was the reason i hated you,” reminds the brunet, bopping hyperactive jinyoung on the tip of his nose. it's a cute gesture. again, not one he sees from jaebum often.

 

“it's been that long? my god, we're old. also, you were my sole competition in class, and you were dating my best friend! of course i was going to rag you.”

 

“ _ex-best_ friend, if i remember correctly,” corrects the brunet, scrunching up his nose as memories with a certain dark-haired girl with a bright laugh and a cat addiction to equal his own flit across his mind in clips of quality reminiscent to the videos saved from years when they were in barely any color.

 

jinyoung nods. “look how far we’ve come though. you’re still dating my best friend, only this time i’m sure this one isn’t going to run away with an sergeant.”

 

“please change the subject.” it's not a simple request, having more of the tone of an order. jaebum sounds like his throat has filled with ice.

 

jinyoung instantly regrets bringing it up, not wanting to bring his best friend’s mood down when it's so unnaturally high. he sighs softly, sparing one more sentence before he moves on. “i still wonder how she’s doing sometimes. where did this conversation start? oh, right. hush, now, and listen to my performance.” a pause as jinyoung’s face contorts in an almost constipated fashion. “oh, shit, i can’t remember the lyrics.”

 

a happy laugh escapes jaebum. “so much for ‘this song is special to our friendship’,” he mimics, dragging exaggerated air quotes in front of jinyoung's face just to rub it in a little more.

 

“fuck you.” a frown sets itself on jinyoung’s face again. “hyung, i was going to take jae to the thrill zone today. at least until you walked in and ruined my plans. i thought you had plans today!” he pauses suddenly and narrows his eyes. “your plans had to do with jae?”

 

jaebum’s eyes widen. “what?”

 

“i asked if your _plans_ had to do with jae.”

 

jaebum’s expression melts into one of obvious relief. “right. i misheard.”

 

jinyoung smacks his forehead, raising his eyebrows. “don't tell me you actually heard me as ‘your plans were to _do_ —’”

 

jaebum claps his hand over the younger’s mouth with a loud laugh. “never _mind_! just go on.”

 

jinyoung glares as the brunet as the hand is pulled away from his mouth. “don't even think about it.” he puts his hands on his hips like a diva and rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “but for real, hyung? you know for a fucking fact that he’s going to choose you over me.”

 

“okay, first of all, when you asked me, i actually _did_ have plans, but they got canceled, and i forgot to tell you, and second of all…”

 

jinyoung waits for jaebum to break open the box of apologies. he’s disappointed.

 

“...i can’t believe how far up the ladder i am to be placed over _you_!” cackles jaebum, slapping jinyoung’s shoulder and bursting into laughter. “you’re like, his best friend, aren’t you? i mean, i know he has minseun, but you’re the fucking fifteen-year friend and _damn_ ” jinyoung’s still glaring, but jaebum doesn’t shut up. “hang on. fucking fifteen-year friend. f, f, f. isn't that called something in your literary language? a hyperbole?”

 

“you're lucky you don't have any other friends in the literary branch, because they'd tear you apart for that mistake,” spits jinyoung, shaking his head condescendingly. “and it's called an alliteration.”

 

he's _still_ glaring at jaebum with a piercing, unblinking stare, so the brunet opts to pat him sweetly on the head. “actually, jinyoung-ah...s’okay. you can take him to thrill zone if you want to—”

 

“no!” exclaims jinyoung, stepping out of jaebum's reach and internally cursing his annoying obligingness towards his two best friends. the grin on jaebum’s face tells him that that was _exactly_ what he was expecting. the ravenet sighs and says in barely a murmur, “you can take him out today. but you’re going to have to pay the next ten times we go for dinner together.”

 

jaebum raises his eyebrows. “you’re going to have to be the one keeping track, but awesome. we’re even now.”

 

“this causes me the loss of the money for one thrill zone ticket. this causes you the loss of so much more.” a small smirk graces jinyoung’s lips for the most fleeting of moments, comprising of three parts of malicious, one part of satisfied and six parts of i-am-already-lost-at-the-thought-of-food. jaebum merely shrugs, to which the younger remarks, “holy christ, you must really like him to agree to feed me ten times.”

 

the brunet smiles shyly, and jinyoung isn’t even mad anymore. (that may have had more to do with the promise of free food, but i guess we’ll never know.) he laughs and ruffles jaebum’s hair, only for the older to step back and hiss. the ravenet chuckles, “shoo, go enjoy your date. take care of my boy. protect him from assholes and don't be one yourself.”

 

“ _your_ boy? you’re not his mother.”

 

“i may as well be, i’ve raised him for fifteen years.”

 

“all right, i’ll take care of him. but being completely honest, you smother more than mother.” it was common knowledge, at least between the three of them, that jinyoung was basically no one if not youngjae’s helicopter mom.

 

“get the hell out here before i get over how cute you two lovebirds are and decide to punch you in the face instead.”

 

jaebum grins. he’s gotten that threat so many times, but jinyoung’s never actually carried it out. “see ya, park.” he takes the car keys from the younger boy’s hand, jinyoung slapping the other boy’s brown hair playfully. jaebum catches the ravenet’s eyes with a grin as he walks out the door, and then jinyoung’s left in an empty apartment, not sure what to do.

 

his options are between staying in and binge-watching a few dramas he has saved on his drive, staying in and working on three stories he has pending, staying in and finishing some of his literary project for the coming semester, and going out to the thrill zone on his own.

 

binge-watching? he’s seen them all about five times over.

 

writing? not in the mood.

 

project? _no_ thanks.

 

that leaves?

 

_sigh._

  
==

 

**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_10:45_ **

  


mark swears he’s going to hunt jackson down if it's the last thing he does.

 

all the younger boy had said was “markiepooh, i have a date for you today! get yourself ready, you’re going out!” and put down the phone before mark could finish saying “what the f—” a small growl emanates from the back of mark’s throat as his phone buzzes and lights up as a message from jackson reaches his inbox. jackson had always threatened to set him up on a date, to get him to _meet new people_ or some bullshit like that, but mark never expected that he would actually set him up on a _date._ like, the real, actual thing. a _date_.

 

**> snackson**

two thrill zone tickets attached !! have fun !! dw you’ll <3 her !! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

 

**markmywords <**

wtf ihysm

 

**> snackson**

you won’t in a few years when you’re married to her and having babies will you (♥ω♥*)

 

**markmywords <**

drop the act

 

**markmywords <**

this is bc of wurin right

 

**> snackson**

UH NO Y WOULF U SAAY THTA LOL

(σ｀・д･)σ

 

**markmywords <**

stop pretending

 

**> snackson**

look i’m tired of him picking on u bc u single kヽ(#`Д´)ﾉ

 

**markmywords <**

how is setting me up on a blind date going to help that you asshole

 

**> snackson**

look u might actually like her k (￣^￣)

 

**markmywords <**

look i know i won’t

 

**> snackson**

just this once to get it off my back and to get wurin off your back (´･ω･`)

 

**> snackson**

tickets on me mah dude (*´・ｖ・)

 

**> snackson**

pls go

 

**> snackson**

i can’t cancel the tickets (*≧m≦*)

 

**markmywords <**

sigh

 

**markmywords <**

just remember that i’m only doing this for you

 

**> snackson**

& ily for that <3

 

**> snackson**

just this once k (=^-ω-^=)

 

**markmywords <**

aight

 

**> snackson**

(ノ^∇^) <3 <4 <5 <6

 

mark slips the phone into his pocket with a sigh. he was supposed to be enjoying his holiday. he had a whole bunch of nothing planned for the day. only, _no_.

 

truth be told, he doesn’t hate very many things, but he does hate jeong wurin, who is the reason he has to go through hell and back on a sunny saturday.

 

a _date_. mark thinks he hates dates as well. especially blind dates. how are you supposed to enjoy yourself with a person you don’t even know? mark isn’t even that good with the people he knows well. meeting new people intimidates him, in the way bungee jumping scares acrophobic people. he mostly likes to keep to himself, or keep the company of the few people he knows well.

 

he never _met_ jackson. jackson _adopted_ him. the younger boy had entered college early, ending up in a batch full of people an entire year older than him. that hadn’t stopped him from walking up to mark on the very first day and introducing himself, saying, “hi, i’m jackson. i’d like to make a friend and you seem like you’d be an amazing one.” it was cheesy, the way he put it, and it was said in broken, awful korean, but mark also wanted a friend, mark also sucked at korean, and mark anyway figured he could do a lot worse, so he accepted. just like that, they became friends, inseparable in three months, their friendship strengthened by the fact that the concept of language barrier didn't exist to them. their conversations were carried out in a mix of korean, mandarin and english.

 

mark had asked jackson about a year later why he chose to become friends with him, to which the younger replied, “i knew you needed a friend, and i can honestly think of no better friendship to grace you with than my own.” the only other people mark knew well enough were the ones he worked with at the café. but then again, they were about as shameless as jackson.

 

his thoughts were brought back to earth with a thud as his phone buzzed again.

 

**> snackson**

she’ll be there at 11:30 so ya might wanna get moving :)

 

with a sigh, mark pulls himself off the couch, brushing chip bits off the front of his loose flannel t-shirt and placing the rest of his packet of pringles on the edge of the sofa. he figures jackson will finish it off later when he gets back to their dorm. he glances at the dial on the phone, figuring he has about ten minutes to get ready and get into his car. mark was never fast at dressing, so it’s with a string of expletives that he rushes through his shower, barely looking when he picks out his outfit.

 

it’s only when he’s revving up the car that he realizes that he’s worn two different earrings on his ears. the difference is not that significant—one is a thin silver elliptical ring with an engraved design, whereas the other is an identical ring with three blood-red stones set in the middle. his hair is messed up, his contacts are making his eyes water and he’s wearing a t-shirt which says ‘i can only be nice to one person a day. today’s not your day. tomorrow’s not looking too good either.’ probably not the best thing to wear on the date.

 

on the trip over, mark decides that despite all his initial negativity and awful wardrobe choices, he’s still going to try to make a good enough impression. so what? he can say that the earrings are a statement for the upliftment of people who are considered misfits in society or some bullshit like that. he can say that the message on the t-shirt is for everyone else because he plans to be nice to her today. and his hair looks good even when it is messed up. jackson has expressed “mark, i am so jealous that you are so good-looking” in every variant available in english, korean and chinese—and once in french and spanish as well.

 

mark almost laughs out loud when he realizes what he’s stressing about. he hasn’t even _met_ this person. and this girl, what was her name again?

 

_fuck._

 

then he realizes he doesn’t even know how this girl looks. he should have asked jackson. he was so panicked at the prospect of a date that it completely slipped his mind. _stupid lapse in judgment._ he should have known that jackson wouldn’t have said it himself, that he would’ve spoken in vague pronouns.

 

_fuck._

 

waiting at a signal, he fishes out his phone from his pocket, punching the first number on his speed dial and hitting the speaker button, almost dropping his phone in his panic.

 

“ _hello_?”

 

“jackson! jackson, jackson, jackson. who have you set me up with?”

 

“ _slow down. i set you up with chae ana, didn't i mention that_?”

 

mark’s heart drops. chae ana was in their year, so obviously he’d have no problem identifying her. ana’s major was mechanical engineering, just like mark, but the difference was the level of seriousness that they respectively exhibited towards the subject. mark always did the bare minimum to get by. having been blessed by genetics with a rather well-functioning neural system, and cursed with a laziness streak a mile wide, he managed to do well enough with not much effort and no desire to put in any more effort. ana, on the other hand, could only be defined as a workaholic. she spent most of her time at her professor’s lab, burying herself in research and theories. not that there was anything wrong with that—mark just didn’t see how he’d be able to relate on any level.

 

“but why did you set me up with her?”

 

“ _because i thought you two might get along well, duh. both of you are introverts. you're shy and you don't talk much._ ”

 

mark groans, his breathing speeding up like it generally does when he doesn't know how to deal with a situation. he starts consciously counting his breaths, continuing to speak once his breathing has evened out again. “boy, please tell me you’re not serious. how am i supposed to start a conversation? how am _i_ supposed to start a conversation? i don’t even do that with you! unless it’s something super high priority, but still!”

 

“ _mark, would you calm down_?”

 

“you set up the most asocial boy in our year with the most asocial girl in our year. what is wrong with you?” mark would normally feel bad for yelling at anyone, but he's _really_ not in the best mood right now.

 

“ __ _a lot, being completely honest. i don't know! start a conversation on how you_ can't _start a conversation? pretty cool, yeah?_ "

the signal turns green, and mark places his phone on his lap maneuvering to right lane so people can overtake him, his next words gritted out with white-hot anger. “jackson, i’m going to _kill_ you.”

 

“ _i probably deserve it, but this is for your own good, hon! you don't have to deal with wurin anymore because you can say you tried and i'll stop getting mad because he picks on you because you apparently never try. you never see chae ana again or you see her again a lot more. we all get on with our lives and this has no consequences. done and dusted, markiepooh. the end._ ” mark can hear the sunshine in the younger's voice, and it pisses him off, how jackson always makes the worst decisions thinking he's doing something remarkable for society. or maybe he's just that way when it comes to making decisions involving mark.

 

“...”

 

“ _mark?_ "

 

“...”

 

“ _markie?_ "

 

“...”

 

“ _mark, unless you respond, i'm going to think you got into an accident and i'm calling the police._ ”

 

every word is measured and even, since the older’s annoyance had crossed a limit beyond which it can't be expressed. “your logic is the most screwed up thing on the planet. what is wrong with you.”

 

“ _mark, please_ …” jackson had a habit of using mark’s name in every sentence when he was trying to get him to do something.

 

“i’ll do it. i said i will, i can’t go back now,” says the addressed in the same low voice. “but i am never agreeing to this again. don’t tell me there will never be an again, i know there will be. but not if i have any say.”

 

“ _look, mark, i said i'm sorry."_

 

“you had better be.”

 

mark presses the red button to end the call before jackson can even frame a defense. he knows how annoyingly convincing the younger can be at times, and he’s not in the mood to be pacified at the moment. he keeps his eyes on the road for the next half an hour, biting his bottom lip hard to keep his emotions in check until he reaches the parking lot of the thrill zone.

 

he hasn’t been here very many times. he went with his siblings when he first came to korea, during his first year, and his sisters and brother had wanted to do something memorable with him before they left to go back to the states. even looking at the colorful theme park sends a small pang to his heart. he could have been home for spring break, if only l.a. wasn’t so far away. he’s only been here once after that, with jackson.

 

he’s a little nervous and jittery, pulling at his fingers nonstop as he makes his way to the ticket counter, standing in the line of all holders of pre-paid passes. the line is extremely long. obviously, he should've guessed. he could barely find a parking space. he stands quietly, trying to get pushed back by the boisterous family in front of him. a harried set of parents desperately try to keep their son and daughter in order. twins, by the look of them. the girl is pulling the boy’s hair and their mom looks close to pulling her own hair out. they’re both yelling in excitement. would be about ten—twelve?—years old, by the look of them. mark observes them in seconds that he has between checking for ana (maybe he should’ve got her phone number, dammit, but he doesn't want to call jackson to ask), missing the days when he could get sugar-high like that. jackson still does. mark envies him.

 

finally, after an agonizing wait of almost twenty-five minutes, mark gets to the counter, tickets open on his phone. a girl stands behind it, bright pink lipstick decorating her plump lips. she has a large welcoming smile. “tickets, sir?”

 

panic suddenly rises in mark’s throat. ana isn’t here yet. he isn’t even sure if she has the tickets.

 

_fuck._

 

he really should’ve thought enough to wait for her in the parking lot or something. what if she’s searching for him now?

 

_fuck._

 

“see, the thing is, my date isn’t really here yet.”

 

“oh?” her smile remains as bright, but just a tad more strained.

 

“um, yeah. is there any way—”

 

“sir, you are aware that once i allot your tickets as per the code on your phone, the code stands to be null, meaning that no one can enter the park with your exact code. so if your date isn’t here yet, i suggest you wait.”

 

mark chews on his bottom lip anxiously. he can't go through that excruciatingly long wait _again_. his anger level is rising again, but he chooses to appear calm. “right, i know that. i just—is there possibly any way that i could—”

 

“i’m afraid not, sir.”

 

mark casts a quick glance behind him, hoping against hope that he will see ana. “look, i can’t go back and wait, the line is huge, and i’ve already been standing for quite a while…” begins the brunet, uncertainty blunting the rough edge he meant to give his words. he wants to tell them that they have a shitty system of entrance that is also inconvenient and inconsiderate, but the words don't reach his mouth.

 

“we regret that we can’t help you out, sir. please do understand.”

 

“are you sure—”

 

that’s when mark is interrupted by an annoyed male behind him.

 

“look, there are other people trying to get into the park as well, you know?”

 

mark whirls around, coming face to face with a male who looks about his age, wearing a black half-sleeved button-down shirt with hair of an equally dark shade to match, eyebrows drawn together in a disgruntled frown and eyes as cold as the last couple months have been.

 

“i’m sorry, it’s just—” begins mark, feeling like a cornered animal. he's not at all skilled at dealing with strangers.

 

“i get it, but you can’t hold up the line and waste everyone else’s time.” the male’s lips are pressed together in a thin line. mark actually slightly understands. the heat and the crowd haven’t put him in a stable emotional state right now either. embarrassment blooms in his gut.

 

“i’m really sorry.” he turns back to the ticket counter lady. “one ticket, please,” he murmurs, showing her the code on his phone. she checks the code off the list on the ipad in front of her and hands him a pass.

 

“have a good day, sir.”

 

oh, he’s having a _great_ one.

 

==


	2. Chapter 2

**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_11:39_ **  


 

jinyoung doesn’t know what possessed him.

 

he rakes a hand through his hair as he shows the code on his phone to the lady at the ticket counter. she smiles and tells him to have a good day. he goes through the gate almost mechanically, not believing his own guts. he actually told someone off for holding up a line. what the _hell_ was wrong with him today? had jaebum slipped something in his coffee? he spoke up to a _stranger_. and a pretty hot stranger, on top of that.

 

he doesn’t speak to strangers. at all. he hasn’t asked for an extra ketchup at mcdonald’s for as long as he can remember. (although youngjae has repeatedly tried to trick him into it.)

 

he blames youngjae. if the blond hadn't left him on his own, he wouldn't have felt the need to address a stranger because he has no one else to do it for him.

 

he feels the need to flick himself in the head to make sure that he isn’t dreaming. _park jinyoung, what is wrong with you_? this feeling… it’s a new feeling. he feels like he’s accomplished something. but at the same time, the guilt is eating him alive, because the fact remained that he _told someone off_. it makes him cringe that he did something like that. he remembers cringing during his teenage years every time his mother would go complain or tell someone off when the need arose. he never thought he’d do it himself.

 

but then again, the sun was getting to him. there was a lovey-dovey couple behind him, all the more reminding him that somehow, everyone else but him was lucky in love at the moment. he just needed to get into the damn theme park, get some adrenaline in his blood to get him working again.

 

as he stands looking at the map of all the park’s attractions, he can see the stranger he told off standing about forty to fifty feet away from him, engaged in a heated phone conversation. it takes all in him not to look too much in that direction because it just brings the guilt back up his system like acid. that’s when the voices of his head decide to come out of the darkness. it’s been a while since he’s had an overthought attack, but he certainly hasn’t missed them.

 

_maybe that guy wasn’t exactly having a good day either._

_why did you have to yell? he didn’t even do anything._

_see, it’s all your fault that he has to go the entire day without a date. great job._

_he probably thinks you're a top-class asshole._

_she was probably pretty hot too._

_how would you know, you’re gay!_

_fuck you, just because i’m not going to order doesn’t mean i can’t look at the menu!_

_why am i responding to myself?_

_i don’t even know!_

_shut the fuck up!_

_okay!_

 

he guesses that the voices in his head would one day kill him from the inside as he makes his way to the nearest ride, an indoor airplane-themed roller coaster. it seems to be one of the tamer rides of the park, so he decides to just start off with that first, seeing the wait time is approximately five minutes. he gets into the line, which moves pretty quickly. no one joins the line after him, until the ride just before his departs. then a person speed-walks down the long aisles, making it just in time to fill the last seat, which happens to be the one at the end of jinyoung’s row, about three seats next to his. the ravenet clenches his fist as his insides lurch unpleasantly when he realizes it is the very same stranger who he has christened s.i.t.o., standing for ‘stranger i told off’.

 

s.i.t.o. seems pretty preoccupied himself, but jinyoung doesn’t even look to check whether he notices him. he keeps his gaze trained in the opposite direction, bolting for the exit once the ride gets over, barely registering any of it.

 

 _see, this is why you shouldn’t yell at people_ , a voice pipes up in his head, _you end up burning yourself_. _awfully. majorly. right down to the ground._

 

“shut up,” mutters jinyoung, rolling his eyes at himself and earning a weird look from a person who passes him. he takes a roundabout route and ends up at the theme park’s most popular attraction, the shooting star, a roller coaster where two people get into one pod that then rolls down a track that is famously known to be one of the fastest and steepest roller coaster tracks in the world. the ride got especially famous after lee minho rode on it and then threw up. jinyoung’s been on it before, once, back when he was a freshman, with jaebum. youngjae had come with them too, but he was too scared to come on the ride, instead opting to stay on the ground and stuff his mouth with popcorn and churros.

 

the waiting time is already at fifty minutes, which is not at all surprising for that particular ride, even though it isn't even peak hour at the park yet. jinyoung figures that he better get in line before the waiting time runs into hours. besides, he figures that s.i.t.o. won’t join the line if the waiting time is so long.

 

 _but you_ are _joining the line though. what’s the guarantee that he won’t_?

 

unfortunately, jinyoung should have listened to that voice in his head, because as he weaves his way through the indoor aisles to join the long line, the first person he sees at the end of the line is the very brunet he’s hoping to avoid. double-unfortunately, he can’t turn back now, because a huge party of people have entered right after him and they’re blocking his way. triple-unfortunately, s.i.t.o. just noticed his presence, so it would look the epitome of weird and obvious if he left now.

 

so he squares his shoulders and joins the damn line, taking the place right after s.i.t.o. jinyoung grits his teeth, because all the voices inside him are screaming at him to apologize, and right _now_ , because it’s all his fault that this stranger has to face the thrill zone alone and be miserable just like him. he has a huge internal struggle.

 

_go apologize._

_actually, you've done enough damage._

_if you could tell him off, you can apologize._

_actually, you'll make things worse._

_uh-paul-uh-jaiz._

_what if he yells at you?_

_you’ll deserve it then._

_say sorry or you’ll never let this go and you know it._

 

when the voices reach a crescendo, he reaches over and taps s.i.t.o. on the shoulder before he can lose his nerve. s.i.t.o. turns, mildly surprised.

 

“yes?” he asks, cool waves emanating off his demeanor once he recognizes the ravenet. jinyoung resists the sudden need to pull his imaginary jacket around him tighter for better protection against the chill.

 

“uh…” _say something, you dolt!_ “about earlier, i, um...wanted to…”

 

s.i.t.o is looking at him expectantly, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to say what he has to say, even though jinyoung knows that he knows what he knows he has to say and is waiting for him to say it to make sure that he also knows that he knows what he has to say.

 

the ravenet clears his throat. “i wanted to say i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have acted so impatient.”

 

a smile hesitantly takes a place on the brunet’s face, and the chillness recedes. “it’s okay. no hard feelings.”

 

ideally, jinyoung should’ve stopped there and went back to his own business. but no. “seriously, it’s all my fault that you don’t get to spend the day with your date, and i feel so bad for that.”

 

a thundercloud falls over the other boy’s face. _whoops, sensitive topic._ he dispels it with a quick smile. “it’s okay, it’s not your fault that this theme park has a pretty awful system for admitting people. and it’s not like she was my type anyway.”

 

jinyoung raises his eyebrows. being a literary major, he's always been interested in other people's stories. not in a nosy way, but in a fascinated one. jaebum's always told him to shut up with his questions, but jinyoung is basically made of questions, so it's trying to get a the popular girl of a chick-flick to _not_ go out with the main character's love interest. it's going against nature. “as in, personality-wise…?”

 

“as in, gender-wise. i’m not into girls,” blurts out the brunet offhandedly, before bringing a hand up to his mouth in realization. “sorry, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.”

 

“no, it’s okay, i get it,” shrugs jinyoung, amused by the other’s expressive brown eyes, that reflect a mix of embarrassment and regret. jinyoung thinks the boy could literally tell a story with those eyes. “i’m in the same boat, i should say.”

 

“really?” asks the other, removing his head to reveal a small amused smile tugging at his lips. “i’m mark tuan, by the way.”

 

jinyoung takes the hand offered to him graciously. “park jinyoung.”

 

“jji-nyoung?” repeats mark uncertainly, the tentativeness in the way he says it reflecting his unfamiliarity with the language.

 

jinyoung’s smile widens slightly. “jin-young, actually. but it’s not a big deal.”

 

mark lets out a soft embarrassed laugh. jinyoung wants to take him away and protect him from the world because the boy's little laugh is one of the most adorably innocent things he's ever heard. “sorry, my pronunciations aren’t too good, even after four years.”

 

“you’re not from korea,” states jinyoung, before mentally kicking himself for stating something _that obvious_. he got that at _mark tuan_.

 

“no, i’m from l.a. i actually came to seoul for university.”

 

“really? which uni?”

 

“u.a.s.t.” jinyoung gives him a funny, slightly disbelieving look, to which the other feels the need to clarify, adding, “you know, the university for arts, sciences and tech—”

 

“no, it’s not that…” the ravenet interrupts, a smile seeping into his words, and the other guesses immediately, eyebrows raising, “don’t tell me you go there too.”

 

“i go there too,” says jinyoung, his wide smile causing his eyes to crinkle. he raises his hand to cover his smile out of habit. “i’m a junior. majoring in literature.”

 

the line begins moving, and by the time it stops again, mark is standing next to jinyoung, instead of in front of him. “i’m a senior. majoring in mech. weirdly enough, my minor is literature.”

 

“get out!” chuckles the ravenet, his hand rising as though to hit the older on the shoulder playfully before he hesitantly puts it back down knowing he just met this person. he admits to himself that he did not expect mark to be older than him. the brunet has a smaller structure than him—smaller face, skinny limbs, looking a lot smaller even though he'd be less than two inches shorter than jinyoung. “my minor is mech.”

 

“whoa, this is freaky as hell,” remarks the older, small laughs escaping his lips in spurts. dear god, jinyoung wants to protect him. so, so much. “i thought coincidences like this only happen in stories.”

 

“all stories are basically embellished forms of what goes on in reality,” shrugs jinyoung, before catching himself with a sheepish little chuckle. “that probably sounded a little nerdy.”

 

mark shrugs back, one corner of his mouth curled upwards in amusement. “probably.” a beat of silence. “but i guess it’s easier to deal with that being yelled at, yeah?”

 

jinyoung scrunches his face up as a cringe attack hits him full on and his gaze shifts to the ground. “yeah, that was...um…” he laughs shakily in embarrassment as mark chortles next to him.

 

“it’s all right, it’s just funny,” explains mark, his laughter refusing to cease.

 

“sorry again, though, um...” jinyoung picks up the courage to look up at the brunet. “can i call you hyung?” jinyoung only calls one other person hyung, and that's only because jaebum will not talk to him unless he's addressed that way.

 

“i guess…?” mark slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, drawing his shoulders in and looking up at the colorful displays on the walls. if jinyoung knew him better, he’d be able to tell that the older was low-key abashed. in a split second, his expression turns almost teasing again. “i mean, we have covered the basics of a friendship, and you have already yelled at me, and—”

 

“yah, are you never going to let that go?” snaps jinyoung, but the angry edge is softened by the pout on his lips. he gets it, he messed up. and park jinyoung never likes being reminded that he messed up.

 

“no, come on, we’re practically best friends now!” says the brunet. the words are accompanied by a laugh, one that sounds freed, like it’s a whole laugh, and not in any way suppressed. it’s sudden and high-pitched and so full of happiness. jinyoung honestly thought that there would be nothing the brunet had in him to rival the laughter that he had found adorable a couple minutes before, but he was obviously heavily mistaken.

 

the ravenet swears internally, knowing that if he tells jaebum that later, he’ll never be allowed to live it down. also, there’s a niggling itch at the back of the ravenet’s mind that reminds him of the existence of a certain redhead in his literature class with the dreamy eyes and the coffee-like voice and the words like…

 

_wait, what are you thinking? do you legitimately think that you could actually fall for this guy for you to remind yourself of *ahem*?_

_uh, no, i’m just reminding myself about what i have._

_what you have? you don’t_ have _him!_

_shut up!_

_can you just think for a moment? life is not a movie for you to fall in love with a stranger you meet in a theme park._

_i wasn’t thinking that._

_you’re a romantic and anyone can see that. don’t even deny it._

_jeez.  
_

 

“how’d you end up here alone?” asks mark, snapping jinyoung back to reality. jinyoung blinks, the question not yet registered in his head, eliciting mark to hurriedly add, “i mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“yeah, no.” jinyoung smiles quickly to cover up his zoning out and the trip in his words. “i was supposed to come with my friend, but then he couldn’t come because he had a last minute change of plans.” _and also because i'm a stupid softie who ships him and his last-minute change of plans too much._

 

“ah, well, that sucks,” says mark, tilting his head sympathetically. _he really has such expressive eyes._

 

the line starts moving again, and this time leads into a different waiting room. the chatter around them is louder, because the aisles in this room are even more packed, filled with people who have barely any breathing space and are waiting with an equal level of impatience. in contrast to the naturally lit space outside, this room is comparatively dimly lit, meaning most of the light in the room comes from the luminous posters and t.v. screens on the walls. it would have a rather eerie feel if it wasn’t for the noisy garble of cross-conversations.

 

jinyoung turns to mark, fascinated by the way the older’s facial features are accentuated by the red and green light that the nearest poster gives off, his brown hair tinted with bright blue from the strobe light aimed from the ceiling.

 

“this is lit,” remarks the younger, his eyes doing a quick circuit of the rest of the room. “in more ways than one.”

 

mark laughs at the bad joke, putting his palm up to catch some of the purple light off an adjacent poster with a childlike expression. there's less than half a foot of space between them now and it feels like less because they can both hear the small silence that has set in between them. jinyoung decides to break it.

 

“if you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up on a date with a member of the wrong gender?” enquires the ravenet, watching mark’s expression carefully to see whether he should take back his question or not.

 

“ah, that.” mark seems to just remember. he waves a hand dismissively. “it’s a long story. my best friend wanted to set me up on a date so he’d stop getting defensive that i always get picked on for being single and set me up with a person he thought i’d get along with because we both didn’t get along with people very well.”

 

jinyoung blinks once, twice, thrice, before mark interprets the blankness on his face as confusion.

 

“sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say...and that is the second time i am using that sentence today. i am really not thinking today.” the last part comes out a bit quieter than the rest. jinyoung's protectiveness index is shooting through the roof.

 

“emotional frustration is one of the main causes behind people making thoughtless decisions. for instance, you’re confiding in a complete stranger.” jinyoung can almost hear his mental youngjae face-palming. that is probably not the best thing to say to get a person talking. “however, i just threw out that fact, so we’re on equal weirdness levels. actually, you're probably a little higher, but i’d like to hear the story behind this, if i’m being completely honest.”

 

mark seems to look uncertain for a second, before visibly relaxing and taking a breath to begin. “so i have this friend. let’s call him, um…‘a’. so basically, ‘a’ has this friend, whose name we shall keep as ‘b’. don’t worry, there are only two variables in this story, so don’t look like i’m assigning you an exam.”

 

“you can’t assign an exam, technically,” points out the ravenet. the noise of mental youngjae face-palming echoes in his head again, only this time it's accompanied by his mental jaebum saying, _not everyone can be, and not everyone has to be word-perfect all the time, jinyoung-ah._ a beat of silence as he takes in the low-key offended look on the brunet’s face. “sorry.”

 

mark waves his hand like it's nothing and goes on. “never mind. either way, ‘b’ likes to go on and on about the fact that he apparently has ‘the best girlfriend in the world’. she’s a sweetheart, i don’t blame him for thinking that. all that gets on my nerves is when he decides that every one of his friends must have a taste of that delightful happiness he feels and get a girlfriend. so you know how people are, hella horny, so all of them have girlfriends. well, ‘a’ doesn’t, but he’s such a flirt. like, legit, he flirts with and plays everyone and everything.”

 

“the v.l.c. media player of humans?” jokes jinyoung, releasing a small giggle, because he's a stupid little fanboy who has way too much time on his hands.

 

“ah, you watch superwoman too,” picks up the older immediately. jinyoung puts on an impressed expression, making a prompting motion for mark to go on. “right, so basically ‘b’ likes telling me how much happier i’d be if i had a girlfriend. that i’d stop just hanging out in my dorm all the time and binge-eating ice cream and stuff, y’know?”

 

jinyoung nods expressively. “oh, i totally get that. my best friend is this ray of sunshine. he’s like a friend magnet or something. not much compared to jackson wang, though, but still—”

 

“how do you know jackson?” mark asks before smacking his forehead with an exaggerated eye roll. “of course, _everyone_ knows jackson.”

 

“i don’t actually _know him_ , know him per se, but yeah, he is pretty popular, i’d say,” agrees jinyoung with a conceding nod. he figures it's okay to flip over his best friend card now that they have one person in common. “my best friend youngjae is quite the fanboy, i should say. finds jackson—what’s the word he always uses?— _cool_. drives my other best friend up the wall with his hero-worship.”

 

“yeah, well, jackson happens to be my best friend,” says mark, the high-pitched laugh making another appearance. “i think he might have mentioned a youngjae once.”

 

“small world,” remarks jinyoung, amused. _wait till i tell youngjae._ “wait, jackson is…‘a’?”

 

“um, yeah, actually.” mark pulls on his fingers unconsciously, eyebrows drawn together in a small frown. _an indication of nervousness or irritation_ , thinks jinyoung, filing that away without knowing it. “you know what?” says mark abruptly. “let’s just drop the whole hiding names with variables thing. i’ll tell you the whole story, it’s not even a big deal. it feels like a weird kind of day for me, so i think i’ll just go with it. besides, i’ve already given you enough ammo to destroy my social life, so—”

 

jinyoung decides to stop him right there. he might as well assure mark of his trust if he's going to decide to trust him. not many people actually do open up to him in the first place—not many people even talk to him in the first place, and he never makes any attempt to approach them either—and on this off-chance that he’s actually come across someone willing to trust him, he refuses to let that person think that he's in any way untrustworthy. also, his protectiveness meter is blinking furiously. “hey, i’m not going to sell you out on anything. as much as i know that this is probably going to make you think otherwise, i’m a pretty trustworthy person. it’s not like i know many people to tell anyway. i’m lonely,” shrugs jinyoung, using a small laugh to try and disguise the amount of truth in the last sentence.

 

“well, i relate,” says mark, without any detectable humor in his words. if that sentence was meant to be a joke, he should’ve tried harder. “i’m always in my dorm.”

 

“i’m always at the library, and that’s why we’ve probably never met each other before.” of course, there are other reasons so as to why jinyoung likes to hang out in the library, but he’s not going to mention those.

 

mark addresses the ground. “maybe.” a small pause. “having limited friends. it doesn’t exactly suck, to be completely honest. it’s just that sometimes you think that peer pressure got over in high school.”

 

“exactly!” exclaims jinyoung, causing mark to look back up at him. “i mean, it’s amazing, having a couple people who you know you can count on, because after all, it is quality over quantity, but somehow, seeing other people around you having so many friends—”

 

“—sometimes make you think that you’d like a bit of that life, am i right?” completes mark, causing the younger to blink in surprise.

 

“dude, we should’ve met each other so much earlier if we can complete each other’s sentences in half an hour,” says jinyoung, an undertone of awe in his words.

 

“it’s weird, i don’t think i’ve agreed with anyone else this easily. it’s like we’re destined to be best friends—and i sound like a third grader or something,” chuckles mark, leaning against the wall so the neon-colored lights sharpen his features drastically, causing him to almost blend into the poster. he looks vaguely unearthly, but in an ethereal kind of way.

 

“so, you’re here alone. and i’m here alone,” points out jinyoung, never losing the opportunity to be a little dramatic, even though most of the time it comes off as dorky. this time is no exception. “wanna be alone together?”

 

mark just grins.

 

==

 

**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_12:42_ **  
  
 

mark doesn’t know why he’s spilling his entire life to a stranger, but at this point jinyoung is no stranger. not anymore.

 

life is so strange sometimes. it seems like it was just yesterday that he had told himself how satisfied he was with his life and how he had enough friends and didn’t need anymore. oh wait. it _was_ yesterday. it’s like life thought there was no point in holding back things that he didn’t want. like, _oh, now you don’t want friends? have one._

 

he never opens up this quick, but he thinks it’s probably because he’s never tried. he gets why people go to therapists now. there’s something comforting about spilling your guts to a person who doesn’t know enough about you to judge at any point of the story, who’ll just listen to you. and once he’s done explaining how exactly ana got held up by her professor and didn’t even tell jackson, rendering him in this situation, they broach upon another topic they have in common.

 

“you said i had the ammo to destroy your life. what did you mean?” asks jinyoung, the statement coming back to his head. ”like, were you serious, or were you just being dramatic?”

 

“bit of both, maybe?” says mark, remembering he made that exact same statement and instantly regretting it, his eyes turning guarded as he contemplates on whether to wave it away or explain himself. he chooses the latter. “i was kind of referring to the fact that you are probably the only living person who knows that i’m...gay.”

 

“so the others are dead?” jokes the ravenet. mark laughs, and jinyoung continues, voice dropping the humor, “but for real, i’m the only one who knows?”

 

“yeah, i haven’t really told anyone else but my family, and the only reason you know is because it slipped out,” says mark, his tone heavy, like this is a topic he hates talking about, but kind of needs to talk about.

 

“well, why would you do that?” jinyoung shakes his head as soon as he says that. he chooses his words carefully, a slight tremor in his first few words before he accesses a manner to put his thoughts together. “i mean, i get that being of a different sexual orientation is difficult. i know, because i’ve been through it all myself. and for the record, i got why you wouldn’t want to come out because from firsthand experience i can tell you that it will suck. i mean,  i had a lot of friends all the way up till senior year of high school. that’s when i decided to come out. and yeah, most of my friends left because they thought...i’d hit on them. and things got really shitty, but...” he holds his arms out with a shrug. “i'm still here and i'm doing fine, i guess.”

 

“ouch,” winces mark, leaning back against the railing of the aisle, catching the discreet implications that jinyoung chose not to elaborate on. somehow, it’s also easier to talk to someone in the midst of chaotic lights and chatter, because in the chaos, it feels a bit like a dream, a bit like nothing matters, so it’s easy to talk about your problems the same way. “i guess that’s what i worry about, being ostracized from society, so to speak.”

 

“ostracized is a strong word. sure, some people are going to be looking at you like you’re something revolting and have three heads, but those people are always going to exist. you can’t do anything about that,” shrugs the ravenet. “i can tell you though, that people, once they grow up a bit, actually do mature. at least, quite a few of them do. my point here is that in college, things aren’t nearly as awful as they were back in school. it isn’t uncommon to come across a person who’s looking to ‘experiment’, and you know the shit that goes down at a party when everyone’s had too much beer, so…” jinyoung rolls his eyes suggestively, and mark nods back in agreement.

 

“there’s still the question of how to work up the courage, you know,” murmurs the older, rubbing his neck uncertainly.

 

“yeah, well, sometimes you’ve just got to rip the bandage off and do it, you know. you can’t spend your life hiding. and besides, the awesome part is that you figure out which people actually care about you.” there’s almost a trace of melancholy to jinyoung’s smile. he’d buried those memories a long time ago, hoping he’d never have to talk about them again. he almost expects that sick ache to tear at his chest again, but remembering the last couple years and how awesome jaebum and youngjae have been to him, it never does.  “it’s awful that sometimes you think the world is changing, that people will become more accepting, but there are still huge consequences to coming out. not that i’m saying don’t do it. i’m saying do it when you’re ready. when you’re ready to accept what it stands for.”

 

“do you have a boyfriend?”

 

jinyoung scoffs. “i wish.” he also wishes that his boyfriend would have an obsession with plot twists and clear binders and pulling out the right word for everything, but he doesn’t add that.

 

“same, i guess?” mark says it as though it's a faraway dream, like the way one would talk about meeting their favorite idols. “hopefully i’ll come out one day. but until then, my trick is just shutting up.”

 

the door opens to the room and the next batch is called in, cutting off the conversation abruptly. eleven pods are lined up like marbles, all ready to roll down the track. mark and jinyoung take the one right in the middle.

 

“i should warn you, there’s the slightest chance that you may go deaf by the end of this,” warns mark, taking the seat opposite to the ravenet and strapping on his harness.

 

“really? my strategy is to just shut my eyes and remain quiet." the ravenet will not admit that he has the smallest attack of nerves. "i don’t even open my mouth when it comes to rides like this.” a pause. “the moment when you can’t talk about theme park rides without making it sound really wrong.”

 

“jeez, man,” says mark, rolling his eyes. jinyoung raises his eyebrows playfully. “okay, i was thinking the same thing,” admits the brunet, nudging jinyoung’s shoe with his own.

 

a security staff comes along and checks their safety harnesses. after giving them a thumbs-up, he moves on to the next pod. they’re silent for about a minute until the theme music of the ride begins playing.

 

mark smiles over at jinyoung as the pod begins tilting. “live a little.”

 

==

 

**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_13:19_ **

 

 

mark wonders exactly why he trusts this ravenet. he just seems very trustworthy. he’d be able to make a fine career as a serial killer, as gory as that sounds. either way, the brunet feels distinctly lighter, having got a few things off his chest. the amazing part is the fact that he’s actually managed to make another friend. it’s been a while since he’s done that. friends are a big deal to mark. one always hankers after that which one is devoid of.

 

the shooting star plunges them into a ride of disorientation and confusion, of unpredictability designed to stimulate adrenaline, of disarray, turmoil and mayhem in the best way. mark yells at the top of his voice, in the dying bullfrog-like manner that jackson always describes it as, scrunching his eyes up when his contacts get too bothersome. he doesn’t need to open his eyes to hear jinyoung’s hollering, a bit hesitant at first, then unobstructed by any sane thoughts. the ravenet decides to imitate tarzan somewhere towards the crest, sending both boys laughing down the steep fall.

 

they get off the ride with somewhat unsteady feet, walking down the exit corridor giggling like two people who’ve had too much to drink on the eve of an important presentation but are still marveling over the fact that they had the fucking balls to do something like that.

 

“that. was. so. lit,” repeats jinyoung for the seventh time, once they’ve made it out completely, and mark nods crazily, in an almost bobblehead-like manner.

 

suddenly, mark notices a couple people standing near a ride on the opposite side of the park area and the color drains out of his face. jinyoung cuts himself off mid-laugh when he notices. “hey, you okay? you look like you’ve seen kellyanne conway or something.”

 

“worse,” says mark, his adam’s apple bobbing. _what the fuck are they doing there. what the fuck is going on. what the fuck. just what the fuck._

 

“who could be worse than kellyanne conway?” asks jinyoung incredulously, following mark’s gaze. the older would laugh if he wasn’t planning on ways to painfully murder jackson at that moment. “who are they?”

 

“so remember i was telling you about wurin? don’t stare. that’s him. with one of his—i know this is going to sound like a weird choice of words, but who cares—cronies,” explains mark, turning away while hoping and praying that they won’t notice him.

 

“oh. so your problem is that they expect to see you here with ana?”

 

mark narrows his eyes, quickly figuring things out in his head as he slightly pulls jinyoung to the side to make sure he’s hidden. thankfully, it doesn’t take much to hide the brunet, whose small frame is easily blocked from view by the ravenet. “well, jackson must’ve tipped them off about the date as soon as he’d thought he’d secured it, because obviously he’d want wurin to see me _try_ ,” thinks mark out loud. “but i doubt he would’ve said that i was on a date _with ana_ , he would’ve just said that i was on a date. so they expect me to see me here on a date, basically.”

 

jinyoung glances over his shoulder and back at mark. “what’s our plan?” mark wants to laugh out loud at the use of the word _our._ he can't believe jinyoung is actually offering to help, but he honestly couldn't be more thankful. two clueless brains are better than one.

 

the older frowns, his options running through his brain like calculations in the last two minutes of a math test—overlapping and muddled. “i’m not sure. if wurin sees me here with you, he’s probably, oh god…” mark hides his face in his hands. “...he’s going to think that either jackson-slash-i was lying, or that you’re my date, both of which are equally humiliating options.”

 

“yah, yah, yah. what’s so humiliating about dating me?” asks jinyoung, feigning annoyance.

 

“probably the fact that wurin thinks i’m straight,” groans mark, his fingers curling into fists. he begins pulling on his fingers, chewing on his bottom lip. “he’ll probably spill it that jackson-slash-i was lying around uni, because that’s the kind of messed up, teenager-like mentality he has, and i don’t want that to happen. i mean, people only know me as jackson wang’s best friend, but jackson is _jackson wang_ …” he tries to push the other idea to the back of his mind, but fails miserably, finally looking up at jinyoung with hesitation written all over his face. “can i ask you to do something crazy?”

 

“way ahead of you. playing someone’s fake date has always been a lifelong dream,” shrugs the younger, seemingly unperturbed and the slightest bit excited. “lucky for you, i have read way too much chick-lit and know a little too much on this particular area. but seriously, you’re going to tell them that your date is a _guy_?”

 

“it looks like that is what it has come to,” says mark solemnly, with the air of a speaker of a funeral—probably the funeral of his dignity. sneaking a glance over jinyoung’s shoulder, he sees that wurin and his friend had moved slightly away to stock up on food. the brunet notices the slight look of uncertainty on jinyoung’s face. “look, if this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to—”

 

“i have no problem,” says jinyoung immediately. “it’s just that you told me less than half an hour ago that you don’t want to come out to your friends. i’m wondering why you suddenly changed your mind.”

 

mark thinks over that for a bit. jinyoung is right, mark didn’t want to come out to his friends. but what choice did the older have now? he doesn’t want wurin to make his own assumptions—he’s stubborn that way. and besides, he’s been talking to a living breathing example of a gay male in korea who came out to his friends and still leads a happy (enough) life. there are consequences, yes, but mark thinks he can deal. he’s pretty sure that jackson is pansexual anyway, and they’ve anyway been through too much for one to leave the other behind. if he has jackson, he’s good. the question he’s actually asking himself is _who else do i have_? but that makes him feel weirdly better.

 

also, there’s too much leftover adrenaline in his blood from riding on the shooting star, and if all the biology he’d learnt in high school hadn’t been so religiously forgotten, he would know that that is the reason he isn’t thinking clearly through this decision.

 

“ah, see,” begins mark, forcing what he hopes is a convincing smile onto his face. “it’s like...um… i think i can deal with the consequences. i want to tell them. it’s not like i actually have a boyfriend now anyway, so it won’t be that huge a shock, so to speak?”

 

“are you sure? are you seriously thinking all of this through?” asks jinyoung concernedly. the look on his face reminding mark of the very look his mother gave him when he told her that he was going to move to korea despite having gotten accepted into riverside, which was right in their district. “it wouldn’t be a good idea to—”

 

“mark? mark tuan?”

 

 _showtime._ the mentioned turns towards the voice with a look of surprise, hoping it doesn’t seem too forced. evidently he’s failing already because he can hear jinyoung whisper to him under his breath, “relax.”

 

“wurin! what are you doing here?” asks mark, smiling because he figures it is the least suspicious thing to do. he keeps his hands behind his back so wurin can’t catch his nervous habit of pulling on his fingers.

 

“so happy to see me, tuan? that’s a first,” smirks the skinny boy. his long lanky arms are crossed and there’s an unpleasant smile on his face. the one beside him, cheoljoo, is relatively short and stocky. they’ve always reminded mark of laurel and hardy, only with none of the humor.

 

mark simply shrugs. “i’m trying new things,” he says quietly. _where's the lie?_ “what brings you here today?”

 

“nice job on the tone of that question if you’re training to be a tour guide. cheoljoo just got done with his mid-sems, so we thought we’d come here for a bit,” says wurin, gesturing to the younger boy in an almost mechanical, practiced way.

 

“you’re a freshman?” asks jinyoung, and mark’s eyes snap towards him, surprised.

 

cheoljoo grunts, but it’s hard to tell whether it was an affirmative grunt or a negative grunt. “he’s a sophomore,” says wurin quickly, clearing up the confusion.

 

“didn’t the sophomores get done with their mid-sems last week?” asks jinyoung innocently, and mark holds in the urge to laugh. goddamn, he really couldn't have picked a better partner for the whole fake date charade.

 

“well, we didn’t get time until today.” wurin’s eyes turn distinctly colder, and he turns away from jinyoung. “jackson mentioned that you were on a date with ana.” a pause as he looks between the two. “where is she?”

 

_fuck._

 

mark wasn’t expecting that. he’d had his explanation set. and his explanation here relied on wurin not knowing that ana was supposed to be here with him. another thought comes to his mind. he almost sighs out loud. it really seems to be the day of bad decisions. it’s almost comical, how his day is playing out.

 

“i cancelled the date,” mark blurts out. he could tell jinyoung was about to turn to him, but resisted, for which he is appreciative.

 

“why?” asks wurin, eyes flicking to jinyoung. “and who’s this?”

 

“this is jinyoung.” there’s a slight tremor in mark’s voice as he says the name, conscious that he’s mispronouncing it all over again. there’s a painfully long pause before the brunet can get the next sentence out of him. “he’s my boyfriend.” wurin blinks in surprise, then does a double take. he doesn’t say anything after that, seeming to have turned to stone, and mark thinks he may have shocked the other into forgetting to speak. he feels strange vindictive pleasure at that thought. he turns to the ravenet, who looks surprisingly calm for the change of situation, simply having a small smile on his face that verges on amused. “this is jeong wurin,” introduces mark, trying to move on from the fact that he’s not just drastically dropped a bombshell that could change how wurin and the others will see him, should wurin and the others want to associate with him any longer. “he’s my...friend.”

 

“oh, hello,” says jinyoung politely, almost delicately, like his mind is half-elsewhere. probably calculating what to say next. “nice to meet you.”

 

wurin gives the ravenet the smallest of nods before turning back to mark. “could i speak to you alone for a second, tuan?”

 

mark nods, following wurin to a few feet away after mouthing a quick ”sorry” to jinyoung. every defense mechanism in his body gears up for a stern interrogation. he can see the words _fight or flight_ written in bright neon green in his mind’s eye.

 

“i’m sorry, you have a _boyfriend_ ? i mean, _you_ have a boyfriend?” chokes out wurin, eyebrows raised incredulously, causing mark to mumble under his breath that changing the emphasis in this case doesn’t make it better, it makes it worse. “since when?” mark just stares at the ground, not saying anything. “how come none of us know? how do i know that he’s not some random stranger you met this morning?”

 

“he’s not. we’ve known each other for a year, okay? he’s our junior at uni.” mark’s voice is tight, his words are too fast and a scowl is painted over his face. he doesn’t want to tell wurin that he kinda hit the nail on the head with that last question. obviously.

 

“so, you’re...gay?” confirms wurin, uncertainty permeating his voice and the word rolling off his tongue as if he’s never said it before. mark frowns a little deeper at that, and then nods firmly. “i guess that explains why you never got a girlfriend.”

 

“yeah.”

 

“jackson knows?”

 

“yeah.” that is a blatant lie. mark makes a mental note to tell jackson a.s.a.p.

 

a short pause. “it’s your life, man.” he sounds resigned. mark wonders why he has to sound like mark just told him that he smokes weed with donald trump every sunday at the white house.

 

“yup,” says mark, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. awkwardness seeps into the silence before wurin makes the choice to walk away from him over to the spot where the other two wait. mark follows suit after a second’s delay, finding both jinyoung and cheoljoo staring stubbornly in different directions.

 

“come on, cheoljoo, let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” says wurin, smirk back on his face. mark doesn’t like the look on his face. in fact, mark just doesn’t like his face. the end. “see you around, tuan.”

 

“sorry about that,” says mark as wurin leaves. he buries his head in his hands. “what have i done? i'm so stupid!”

 

jinyoung shrugs. “i told you, hyung, i’ve always wanted to play someone’s fake date. i must admit that that was easier than i thought it’d be. i had a whole bunch of fake date stuff planned!”

 

he sounds so legitimate that mark begins laughing. “you’re right, though. i’m a little scared about how easy that was. i was gearing up for a struggle.” he exhales consciously, feeling like he’s letting out the pressure in his chest as well. “but we are going to have to be a little careful,” he says, dialing up the mysteriousness in his tone and lowers the volume of his voice for added comic effect, even though the fact remains that he’s being the slightest bit serious. “because they are going to be around for the entire day.”

 

jinyoung stifles a laugh. “yeah.” he glances over in the direction in which wurin and cheoljoo left, though obviously not seeing them. he brings his hand up to cover his mouth as more laughs try to break out of him. mark finds that habit rather endearing, for the younger does have a beautiful smile. it seems like rather a shame to try and cover it up. “this is fun.”

 

“i know, right?” giggles mark, jinyoung’s laughter causing a weird fuzzy feeling in his chest. he chooses to ignore it on purpose, knowing exactly what it foreshadows, for he’s not your usual clueless teen literature protagonist. he shakes his head to clear it, and remembers something he has to do. “one second.”

 

**markmywords <**

jackson i’m gay

 

**> snackson**

mhmm all right when are you getting back

 

**markmywords <**

that was surprisingly cool you’re scaring

me

 

**> snackson**

i just need to know my deadline to come up with

questions

 

**> snackson**

but i will say i suspected it c:

 

**markmywords <**

aight i’ll be back before work i think

 

**markmywords <**

also if wurin calls please don't answer

 

**markmywords <**

i'll explain later

 

**> snackson**

????? but okay

 

 

**markmywords <**

thanks a mil youre a fuckin blessing

and you are forgiven

 

**> snackson**

i know ^.^ and thanks bro :)))

 

with a smile, mark holds out his arm, “churros, darling?”

 

jinyoung laughs at the bad imitation of a posh accent while hooking his arm in mark’s. “don’t mind if i do.”

  
==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to update today so i could get into the schedule of updating every two weekends... also i realized how much i twist situations for plot - but i'm sure there's a universe somewhere out on the edge of the multiverse that works like this ^^ also, i attempted to bring out the difference between a jinyoung who just met someone as compared to a jinyoung who is used to someone, so i hope i did all right on that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally supposed to be two parts of about 4k words each, but i changed my mind and posted them both just because :) love me, y'all ^^  
> [edit: came back to make a few small changes. nothing major, i was just working on lessening the descriptive pronouns in order to make reading this easier.]

**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_13:47_ **

  
  
jinyoung wasn’t lying when he said he’d always wanted the fake boyfriend gig. having grown up studying the art of written humor, romance, drama, satire, and most importantly, clichés, saving mark’s ass by pretending to be his boyfriend is easy as pie for him. it’s not even like they see wurin all that much, but even when they do, it’s not like they have to change anything they’re doing.

 

mark has an easy-going personality, and jinyoung finds himself not stopping to think when he says things. there’s also a small voice at the back of jinyoung’s mind reminding him of the possibility that he might eventually have to pay for everything that he’s doing and saying, but it’s too feeble to be listened to. and mark answers all his questions with laid-back grace, without withholding many of his thoughts either.

 

jinyoung is cynical about the very idea of soulmates—platonic, romantic or otherwise—but sitting and talking out why fame wouldn’t exactly work for many people over a large pizza and way too many laughs makes him feel like this is probably as close as it could get for him. it’s only been one morning, but it feels like he’s known mark forever.

 

after lunch, they catch one of the small movies playing in the theatre of the theme park and then go on a few more rides. it’s nearly five o'clock when, worn out and still giggly, they decide to call it a day.

 

“you going back to the dorms?” asks mark, searching his pockets for his car keys. “i could give you a ride back.”

 

“thanks, but i don’t actually stay at the college dorms,” says jinyoung. “jaebum and i share an apartment a little away from uni. it’s because it’s easier for us to get to our part-time jobs. i’ll take the m.r.t.”

 

“no, that’s okay, i can drop you off.”

 

jinyoung doesn’t need that much persuasion, so he accepts. as soon as he’s entered his apartment, a blond cannonball hits him in the stomach, knocking all the breath out of him.

 

“hyung, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” says youngjae repeatedly into jinyoung’s chest. the older hugs back, rubbing youngjae’s head forgivingly. the younger leans into his touch, mumbling apologies over and over, with jinyoung telling him that it’s okay as many times. one thing jinyoung can’t bear to see is an upset youngjae. and also, his day hasn't nearly gone as bad as he thought it would.

 

“we picked up cake for you,” says jaebum from his post on the couch, pointing to the bag on the small coffee table.

 

“you’re not too mad at me, are you?” asks youngjae anxiously, hanging onto jinyoung’s arm as he makes his way to the couch. they each take a seat on each side of jaebum, who puts one arm around each of them. jinyoung smiles at the familiar gesture. when jaebum and youngjae first started liking each other, jinyoung was always worried that he’d end up being third-wheel zoned. instead, he turned out being a stronger link, so 2young2jae didn’t turn into 2jae ft. jinyoung.

 

“no, i’m not mad,” says jinyoung, picking at the loose strings sticking out if the cushion he’s sitting on. the couch is really old. it was actually jaebum’s aunt’s (as is most of the furniture), and she had very generously given it to them when they had moved into that apartment (which coincidentally happened to sync with the time she was moving to the states). it smells of stale grape juice washed many times over (jaebum’s cousins were sloppy, and also happened to love grape juice) and dust, lots of it, but jinyoung’s gotten used to it. “how was your date?”

 

“fun?” jinyoung smiles at the tentative way that youngjae looks at jaebum when he says that. they are a legitimate movie-worthy couple, and he loves taking credit for orchestrating the process of bringing them together. “how was your day at the thrill zone?”

 

“and what are you smiling so much for?” asks jaebum, poking jinyoung’s cheek playfully. jinyoung smiles up at him, the curve of his mouth turning steeper. jaebum can always tell what’s going on inside his head. he always blames it on jinyoung being too obvious, but the younger’s convinced that he has some kind of superpower.

 

“the smell of the sofa,” says jinyoung, rolling his eyes. he reaches for the cake bag on the table in front of them. “the cake, obviously.” it’s not a complete lie. jinyoung loves food more than anything. jaebum likes joking that jinyoung would sell him to satan for a corn chip. jinyoung likes retaliating by saying that he’d just be sending jaebum back home.

 

“no, i know you, and that’s not your food smile.” jaebum narrows his eyes suspiciously as jinyoung pulls out the cake box and digs into a black forest slice. “hang on a second, did you meet someone at the thrill zone? did you meet…” the oldest teasingly grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “...won shinhyeo?”

 

jinyoung’s cheeks turn warm at the very mention of the name. won shinhyeo was a student in his literature class who wielded a certain power over words, making everything sound so deep yet simple at the same time. that very power over words had pretty much granted him power over jinyoung’s heart, because jinyoung had one hell of a crushing crush on him. “no, i met justin bieber.”

 

“really?” pipes up youngjae. jaebum shoots him a look.

 

“i did actually meet someone,” says jinyoung slowly, his hand swiping at his lips to remove stray cake crumbs. he then shifts his position so he’s sitting up straight and facing the other two, leaning against the arm of the sofa as he pulls his legs up to his chest and rests his head on his knees.

 

“stop sounding so mysterious, and tell us,” prompts jaebum, looking at jinyoung in amusement, his fingers idly threading through youngjae’s hair. youngjae tries to act like he doesn’t notice, but the pale pink that sweeps across his cheeks gives him away. jinyoung finds it cute that even after weeks, youngjae isn’t used to this free physical contact.

 

“do you know someone named mark tuan?” asks jinyoung carefully, trying to figure out what to say next. what exactly can he say? _do you know someone named mark tuan? small build, eyes that tell a story, current fake boyfriend of mine?_

 

youngjae perks up. “isn’t that jackson hyung’s best friend?” jackson and youngjae met each other during a time when jackson thought he’d had the potential to play the piano and came to youngjae for help. although the lessons were an absolute failure, they remain on good terms. terms that are a little too good for jaebum’s possessive side.

 

“why would you call him hyung when he doesn’t even know you all that well?” mumbles jaebum, removing his arm from around youngjae, who looks distinctly hurt at the action. jinyoung catches hold of jaebum’s arm and puts it back around the blond, saying, “don’t be an asshole, i warned you,” with a dangerous glare that has no actual venom in it.

 

“i call him hyung because we know each other and he’s older than me,” says youngjae simply, leaning against jaebum’s chest. “that’s all there is to it.” there’s a small, stiff silence. jinyoung pokes jaebum’s side, causing a smile to break across the brunet’s face. the oldest of the three buries his face in youngjae’s blond hair, causing youngjae to giggle happily and jinyoung to want to vomit rainbows. he hasn’t seen jaebum this affectionate since high school. “to fucking think i got called a lovebird today. wurin should really meet you two,” remarks jinyoung, smirking.

 

“what the hell?!” exclaims youngjae, a deep scarlet blush seeping into his cheeks. “a lovebird? wurin? what are you talking about?”

 

jinyoung tells them the entire story between bites of cake, start to finish, not holding back on any details, and the other two listen intently. a little too intently. jinyoung sometimes thinks they’re too invested in his life. then again, they basically _are_ his life.

 

“so what you’re saying is,” clarifies jaebum, shaking his head. “you yelled at a guy for holding up a line, then became friends with him and pretended to be his boyfriend for the next few hours all in _one day_? jinyoung, my man, i don’t know what to say.” the last time jaebum used the phrase ‘jinyoung, my man’ in that impressed tone was when the younger had stayed up for thirty hours straight on the last two days of winter break a couple years ago because he forgot about a project until the last minute. for the longest time, that had been the most unbelievable thing he had done.

 

“i know what to say,” says youngjae, smirking. jinyoung finds that look funny on the youngest. it’s not very _youngjae_. “date him.”

 

“what is wrong with you?” jinyoung’s eyes widen in surprise that youngjae has just been so _blatant_. but it’s not surprising that the blond had reacted that way—jinyoung expected that reaction from at least one of the two. “why would i want to do that?”

 

“because of all that you just said. he’s nice, he’s easy to talk to, you agree on a lot of things and he’s funny. why don’t you just date him?” asks youngjae, rolling his eyes like jinyoung’s dumb. jaebum shrugs in agreement and jinyoung gives him a look that plainly says _don’t you start_. they’ve been trying to get him off the shinhyeo kick for a long time, but jinyoung is as stubborn as humanly possible.

 

“just because i get along with someone doesn’t mean i have to date them,” says jinyoung plainly, reaching out and poking youngjae with his toe. “otherwise, i’d be dating you.”

 

jaebum lets out a dramatic gasp and youngjae slaps his chest (jinyoung can tell that he’s about to combust, though), saying, “he’s obviously kidding.”

 

“no, he’s offended that i didn’t say that i’d date him,” grins jinyoung.

 

“he’s actually right,” concedes the oldest, earning another slap from youngjae, this time with a pout. jinyoung find him the epitome of precious when he makes that face, and judging by his smile, jaebum agrees with him.

 

“so what are you going to do now?” asks youngjae, ignoring the statement and moving on, exhibiting maturity far beyond the grasp of either of the other two.

 

“what do i do now? nothing. we’re friends, and that’s it, i guess?” shrugs jinyoung, getting off the sofa and stretching, his back letting out a satisfying _crack_. the voices in his head argue in the background, but the noise just feels like static. “that’s all it’s going to be.”

 

“and you shall stick to your plan of wooing shinhyeo, yes?” confirms the brunet. he sounds a little hesitant, a little like he’s not on board with that situation. he’s been like that since the beginning, supporting jinyoung on the shinhyeo situation solely because he’s his best friend, and for no other reason. there have been subtle jabs here and there about how shinhyeo is not nearly good enough for jinyoung in jaebum’s eyes, but the ravenet never takes any of it the slightest bit seriously, because in his eyes, if it hadn’t been jaebum dating youngjae, jinyoung would’ve said that no other person would ever deserve youngjae. “project jinhyeo, fighting!”

 

“that is how it shall be,” nods jinyoung. he pauses and frowns. “and don’t say wooing, you sound like a grandma.”

 

“i shall say what i want when i want to say and nothing that you say shall convince me otherwise,” replies jaebum, chin pointed out and nose stuck in the air. youngjae laughs. he’s always heavily entertained whenever the older two begin bickering.

 

“‘i shall say what i want to say—’” jinyoung begins imitating the older before he gets cut off by a minor interruption. also known as a couch cushion flung in his face by the very person he was imitating. he’s about to counterattack when his phone buzzes.

 

 **1** _new chat request_ : **markmywords**

 

youngjae looks over jinyoung’s shoulder and shakes his head at the small smile on jinyoung’s face. “we’ll leave you to it,” says the blond, then turns to jaebum. “we’ll go out and get dinner, hyung?”

 

jinyoung doesn’t seem to hear him.

 ****  
== ****  


**_—16 FEBRUARY_ **

**_18:25_ **  


mark runs down the sidewalk frantically, trying not to bump into too many people. he almost trips over the wheel of a stroller and is almost pushed into a wall by a person who dodged the wrong way to avoid him, but he still manages to arrive at café 247, a small twenty-four hour eatery tucked away at the heart of an intersection, in one piece.

 

the place is bustling. almost every table is filled. there’s a long line at the counter, and the cashier covering the current shift, yugyeom, looks like he’s going to pass out, and they’re only a half-hour in. so basically, it’s the typical saturday evening rush when everyone wants to grab a quick snack before going for a movie at the theatre down the street. that theatre is the only thing that keeps café 247 doing well enough to keep its head above water.

 

mark joins the others behind the counter, grabbing one of the aprons that are hanging near the coffee machine. kunpimook’s the first to see him and sends him a small wave as he makes his way over. mark ties his apron around his waist just as kunpimook reaches him.

 

“why so late, mark?” asks the younger, raising his eyebrows. kunpimook doesn’t call mark ‘hyung’. he’s thai and mark’s american-taiwanese and honorifics are just things that they discarded the first day they met, instead choosing to address each other by their actual names, despite the age gap. “boss ain’t going to be happy.”

 

mark almost laughs out loud. the fact that junmyeon can never get angry has been everyone’s favorite inside joke since day one. but the fact still remains that he is a half-hour late and has an apology to render. just then, junmyeon himself makes an appearance from behind kunpimook, lips set in a grim line and sweat trickling down the side of his face.

 

“mark, why didn’t you get here earlier?” he asks, voice soft like usual while swiping his sleeve across his face.

 

“sorry, hyung, i had to go out. i got your message late.” mark drops into a reluctant bow with a guilty look on his face.

 

“you know what, it doesn’t matter,” says junmyeon, waving a hand. he smiles his trademark small smile, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly and small crinkles forming at the edges of his eyes. “you only have to work this shift because a couple others bailed out at the last minute, and i’m sorry about that. but we’re getting swamped. typical saturday evening. just get to work. you too, bambam.”

 

“yes, sir!” kunpimook salutes the oldest, who grins back. no one quite remembers when or why they began calling kunpimook bambam. all anyone remembers now is that bambam is easier to say than kunpimook.

 

soon all mark is thinking about whether that macchiato needed an extra squeeze of caramel sauce, how many orders of fries table ten ordered, whether the customer ordered a pumpkin spice latte or a cinnamon one, how to keep his glasses from fogging up (he probably shouldn't have stopped back at the dorm to change, but wearing lenses for an entire day made him feel like foggy glasses is better to endure) and whether yugyeom’s going to still be conscious in four hours. around seven-thirty, junmyeon allows mark to take five, so it’s with a sigh of relief that the brunet steps outside the café and allows himself to take a breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. the weather hasn’t warmed up completely, so the nights are still a little chilly, and mark likes it. he wipes the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and pulls out his phone.

 

 _too soon?_ he wonders as he opens his chat app. his thumb hovers over the search button. he knows the username, jinyoung gave it to him, but he literally saw him a couple hours ago. mark shrugs. _to hell with it_.

 

 **SEND** _chat request to_ **bookpark**?

 

 **YES** **NO**

 

mark makes his way back to the rush of the café—or as he likes to call it, the evilest depths of hell. around eleven-thirty, jackson shows up, his shift at fashion passion down the street over for the day. he enters the café like the twin of a category 5 hurricane, just as the crowd is at its thinnest. mark grins at him when he notices his best friend’s entrance—which, incidentally, isn’t hard to miss—and taps his watch once, meaning that he’ll be off the hook in half an hour.

 

jackson orders a fudge d’lite while he waits (no, he doesn’t forget to wink at the cashier), feet thrown up on his table as he watches mark wipe down the other tables. the last few customers trickle out of the café, and mark feels that familiar relief washing down his chest. there’s a beauty to routine. once mark bids goodbye to the rest of his co-workers, he heads out with jackson.

 

the younger of the two slings an arm around the older, who tiredly laughs. “tough day?” asks jackson.

 

“the usual,” shrugs mark, footsteps heavy on the sidewalk. “you?”

 

“i got a bunch of teens today,” sighs jackson, and mark winces, prompting the younger to go on. “you know how it was, they’re clueless. trying on suit after fucking suit. prom’s coming up next month, and i get it, but it would do if these guys had brains, you know? like, the price is clearly marked on the price tag, which is there for a reason. asking me to tell them the price is not going to make it any cheaper, i swear. i came this close to punching one of those dickbags out of frustration.”

 

mark laughs at that. jackson may say things like that, but he’s all bark and no bite. he’d never even hurt a fly. “they probably just wanted to see more of the extremely hot salesperson showing them around.” the older winks.

 

jackson giggles, making a noise of exclamation as he ruffles mark’s hair. “how was your prom?”

 

“i never went,” admits mark sheepishly, footsteps falling in sync with jackson’s. his attention shifts to that, putting one step in front of the other at the same pace and finding the slightest enjoyment in that, a reflection of exactly how dull his job is and how easy it is to engage him. “i didn’t want to. but you went, didn’t you?”

 

“three fucking years in a row, baby,” reveals jackson, wiggling his eyebrows. “sophomore, junior and senior years.”

 

“whoa. at first when you said three years, i thought you’d been held back twice.”

 

“i entered college a year early, dolt. how could i have been held back twice?”

 

“i don’t know!” says mark, a little defensively. jackson simply gives him a teasing smile.

 

“now what’s all this about you being gay?” asks the younger, cutting to the chase. when he asks it like that, it should sound a bit like a parent trying to coax their child out of what they consider ‘a phase’, but when jackson asks, it doesn’t seem that way. he’s just a little curious, and he doesn’t care for the way he phrases things.

 

“yeah.” mark suddenly doesn’t know how to go on. “what’s there to explain?”

 

“i don’t know, how have you been around me all these years and still not asked me out?” whines jackson, and mark slaps his palm to his forehead.

 

“i didn’t ask you out because i got to know you too well,” replies the brunet, rolling his eyes. “either way, i know it’s going to be a little weird at first, but—”

 

“oh, please. what do you mean, _weird_? i find it putting pineapple on pizza weird—i never understood the hawaiians—but being gay? not so weird, hon.” jackson puts an arm around mark, and there’s a warm smile on his face. mark isn’t facing him, but he can still sense the warmth. it feels like a blessing. it feels like he has everything he could possibly need, because this feeling of acceptance from his best friend, one he was afraid of never receiving, has fallen into his life. mark really couldn’t ask for anything more.

 

somehow, that causes all his thoughts to come crashing down on him. every insecure, scared thought that he ever had about coming out suddenly comes back to his mind. he’s been treating all he’s done this entire day as nothing, but suddenly it strikes him that he’s done so much. he’s done it. he’s come out of the closet. he can check out guys outright and not worry about whether jackson will notice, and if he does, if he’ll judge. slowly, in the silence, each prior thought dissolves, fades away until mark’s chest is filled with a feeling he thinks is probably called liberation.

 

“thank you,” he whispers, and jackson squeezes his arm in response. it’s a simple gesture, but it brightens the smile on mark’s face multi-fold.

 

“hey, you don’t have some secret boyfriend that i don’t know about, right?” asks the younger suddenly.

 

mark pauses for a second, phrasing his words in his head. “oh, about that—”

 

“wait, _what_ ?!” shrieks jackson. “your answer should be no! your answer should be _no, jackson, i’d never keep secrets from you_!”

 

mark puts his hand over the other’s mouth to smother out the yelling, shushing him violently. “but i don’t keep secrets from you! let me explain.”

 

jackson crosses his arms and shifts his gaze to the front, muttering, “this better be good.”

 

they reach the college gates, mark using the time to walk to the dorms to explain the day’s events to the younger. he doesn’t leave out any details, not that he really can with jackson’s intrusive, interrupting questions.

 

“hold up, how does this guy look?” asks jackson, pausing mark at the part after the encounter with wurin. “is he hot? is he hot enough to play my markiepooh’s fake boyfriend?”

 

“he is...not the general definition of hot, i guess? like, he has a sharp jawline, like it could legitimately cut glass. and the only reason i’d notice that was because you were just babbling on today morning about how michael jackson has a scarily sharp jawline, so it just came to mind. his eyes are like...eyes? i don’t fucking know how to describe a person, jackson!” groans mark in frustration as they trudge up the stairs.

 

“just tell me what you noticed. like, what stuck out? i hope you're not taking that literally. nothing better have been sticking out. tell me…what was something that caught your eye. and it better not have been sticking out. tell me.” jackson performs what looks like a swimming motion as he’s prompting mark along. the older pushes jackson’s arms aside as he unlocks the door to their room-slash-suite-slash-exclusive-markson-area. he flicks the light on and heads to their mini-fridge, pulling out a can of yogurt that has to be consumed because it’s on the verge of being spoilt.

 

jackson spreads himself out on the couch. “answer the question, you arse.”

 

mark waves his spoon in the air, perching himself on the arm of the couch. “i don’t know, i don’t notice stuff.” a plain lie. mark noticed a lot. he just didn’t know exactly how to put it. jackson shoots him a look, and he sighs. “all right, he had a nice smile, okay?”

 

“what do you mean?” jackson hoists himself onto his elbows, resting his face on his palms and looking up at mark with an interested look.

 

“like, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he has like, a squishable face,” shrugs mark, thinking back to the ravenet he’s supposed to be describing. his face shape is a little weird when looked at from the side, especially when he was smiling. mark came to find that smile very endearing, though jackson can’t get him to admit that. at least for now.

 

jackson squeals, startling mark and almost throwing him off-balance. “you want to squish his face? that’s so cute! you want to. squish. his. face. please just get married.”

 

mark bursts out laughing. “yeah, _right_.”

 

“but you want to,” teases jackson, getting up and helping himself to a bit of yogurt. “oh, this is a nightmare. how do you even eat this? processed food.”

 

“not everyone’s a fan of organic, bro,” says mark, sticking his tongue out. he scrapes out and eats whatever yogurt is left in the container, (licking the spoon back and front just because it disgusts jackson) then chucks it in the trash can across the room. “yeet!” he squeals, and jackson hollers as loud as he’s allowed.

 

“well, i’m going to crash,” yawns mark, fatigue catching up with him. “i have a full day’s work tomorrow, and i’ve barely slept the entire week, so i’ve got some making up to do.”

 

“alright.” jackson holds up a thumbs-up and then beckons mark closer. “mandatory bedtime hug.”

 

the older obliges, giving jackson a tight hug before leaving for their shared room. it was one of the rules that jackson had put forth when they decided to share a dorm space in the second semester of their freshman year. jackson was naturally loud and clingy, and mark was just the complete opposite. mandatory bedtime hug was a bit of a compromise, to get mark to be a little more open to affection and to get jackson his required affection quota.

 

it was a bit mechanical at first, but then one night they’d gotten into a huge fight over something—mark didn’t even remember the reason now—and jackson, instead of sleeping in his room, snuck into mark’s bed. jackson slept like a koala, so when mark woke up to the younger wrapped around him, he’d found the entire situation so adorable that he’d forgiven jackson just like that. when he asked why he snuck into his bed, jackson said, “you’d forgotten my mandatory bedtime hug.” and ever since, the routine had been special. it mellows mark out, giving him the dose of affection that, most of the time, he doesn’t know he needs. these days, due to their clashing shifts, they barely ever go to sleep at the same time, but jackson uses that to his advantage, randomly demanding hugs whenever. the older really doesn’t mind.

 

mark chucks his glasses onto his little bedside table and pulls out his phone, plugging it into the charger. his screen lights up, and the brunet can make out the blurry outline of a notification. he holds the phone a couple centimeters away from his face, squinting to make out the text on the screen, and smiling when he reads it.

 

 **1** _new message_ _from_ **bookpark**!

   
==

 

**_—18 FEBRUARY_ **

**_11:12_ **

 

jinyoung doesn’t like being alone. growing up with two older sisters and one youngjae meant that he was never alone, at any time. it gives him a sense of security, knowing that there’s always someone in his immediate surroundings who he could turn to just in case. most of the time, he does like being alone, but it’s the kind of alone that’s superficial, like when he has the room to himself, knowing that there was someone outside that he could yell for. just in case.

 

jaebum texted him saying that he’d gotten a call this morning saying that he’s needed back at home, and he’s left for ilsan by the time jinyoung gets back from a meeting with his professor about a special literary project for next term. he drops his satchel on the couch, the odd silence ringing in his ears. sure, he’s used to silence—there have been plenty of times when he’s gotten home before jaebum, or when the older had to go out. it’s not like they’re attached at the hip. but this is a different kind of silence. it’s the _i’m going to have the house to myself for ten whole fricking days_ kind of silence. and jinyoung hates it.

 

if youngjae had been here, jinyoung would’ve called him over to stay with him, but the younger left for mokpo yesterday and he’ll only be back by the end of spring break, so that option’s out.

 

with a sigh, jinyoung makes himself lunch—a cup of ramyeon that he barely tastes. after lunch, he tinkers with his phone for a bit, before he gets bored of finding the same overused posts in his feed of his s.n.s. finally, he gets up and grabs his satchel, picking up the books he has to return that week and his library card. he still has a couple hours to kill before he has to get to work, so he decides to spend the time the way he always does.

 

he walks down the stone paths of the university, enjoying the lack of students and the certain sense of freedom and relaxation that hangs in the air like a festive decoration. most of the students have gone home to enjoy their one and a half weeks off. jinyoung could’ve gone home too, but his parents have to go to the philippines for a company conference and his sisters can’t make it either, so there’s really no point.

 

it’s a fresh monday afternoon—so it’s basically a fresh monday morning that has lost some of its fizz, and jinyoung has the smallest skip in his step. going to the library always perks him up. from the time he was a kid, he’ll take reading over anything. getting the literature course in the college of his choice was a dream come true. finding out that his crush worked as the librarian’s assistant was another dream come true.

 

jinyoung put his old books in the return rack and went to browse for new novels. he peeks behind the shelves to check if shinhyeo is on duty today, and a corner of his mouth turns upwards when he finds his answer in the affirmative. just seeing shinhyeo caused a swooping sensation in his stomach, like he’d missed a few steps on the staircase. not just one step.

 

it isn’t that shinhyeo is exceptionally good-looking, or even the type of person you’ll notice right away. jinyoung describes him as the kind of person who looks more beautiful the more you look at him, with a round face with dark red hair that falls into his huge, sparkling, coal-black eyes, with a structure that suggests that he gets enough to eat, but always stops when he’s full—because ‘normally proportioned structure’ is not an adequate description to jinyoung. he’s almost as tall as jinyoung is, with a deep voice that one can drown in, and choice of words that can win anyone over if he puts his mind to it.

 

jinyoung chooses a couple books and goes and sits down at a table which keeps the librarian’s counter in his direct line of sight. occasionally, he glances up from his book, only to smile slightly at the sight of the redhead working earnestly and then going back to the novel.

 

if jaebum was here, he’d make fun of how whipped jinyoung is,

 

and jinyoung wouldn’t even be able to contradict him.

  
==

**_—18 FEBRUARY_ **

**_12:08_ **

  
  
mark is bored out of his mind.

 

he hates engineering drawing with all of his essence. it’s one of the courses that he has to take since he’s also taking advanced kinematics and dynamics, and he thought it would be easy at first. then he found out that he sucks at it, and mark doesn’t like things he isn’t good at.

 

everything is magnified in his eyes at the moment, and he’s just looking for a reason to complain. the air is too fresh and the day is too beautiful to do anything serious. his glasses are making the bridge of his nose itchy. he needs food, but he’s pretty much finished everything in the mini-fridge. he wants to go see what they have for lunch at the cafeteria, even though he knows it’s going to be some version of the usual cafeteria goop.

 

jackson has the day shift at fashion passion today, and mark has the night shift at the café, meaning the older has to find something to do with his day. at the moment, he’s choosing to sit and hate his e.d. teacher who assigns work over spring break—or as he likes to call her, satan’s right-hand woman. he doesn’t understand why all of the things he hates have to be alternately named after components of hell. heaven can be just as destructive. awful things can come from heaven.

 

like that stupid, stupid boy who’s slowly been integrating himself bit by bit into mark’s thoughts for the last forty-eight hours. the one with eyes like...eyes. mark admits heaven is a bit of an exaggeration, but there’s no way that a person who is genuine, fun, and can  bring out the plain, absolute mark-ness of mark in a couple hours can be real. mark almost expects himself to wake up at any point, as though jinyoung is someone he dreamed up because he needs a friend. yes, he does have friends—scratch that, _a_ friend—but jackson isn't one for thought-provoking conversations, for talks on deep subjects, and mark does go through those moods, and it frustrates him that he has so much to let out.

 

then along comes park jinyoung, who just takes the words right out of his mouth. who asks the right questions. who agrees on the right things. who is just right.

 

mark must admit, the first time he looked at jinyoung, all he could think was _damn._ jinyoung was that kind of unconventionally attractive, like the kind you’d like if you liked that type—the simple, uncomplicated looking type. he’s equally fun online as well, never missing the opportunity to make a snarky dig about whatever. mark’s texted the ravenet about six times in the past one and a half days, having conversations ranging between ten minutes to a near forty-five minutes, and what scares him is the fact that he’s been counting.

 

it’s official. mark tuan likes park jinyoung.

 

and it freaks him out.

 

it should be completely normal. like, every single person around him is either is a relationship, or is looking for one, because that’s just the way twenty-two year olds are, right? not mark. he’d shut himself away from all civilization if he could. he finds the whole idea of liking people, going out and falling in love blown out of proportion. it’s too much work. it’s too much pain.

 

yet he finds himself packing up his e.d. homework and heading to the library on the off-chance that a certain person might be there.

 

he almost doesn’t know how to react when he does see jinyoung there. he hadn't prepared on what to do if jinyoung was actually _there_. jinyoung’s just sitting there, reading, and mark wants to run, but he also wants to sit and talk to him. how hard is it to approach someone who is, in fact, not a complete stranger? in this situation, mark thinks he’d rather approach a complete stranger.

 

if he was watching this from a third person’s point of view, he would’ve slapped himself across the face. and it is with that thought that he basically propels himself across the room to the table at which jinyoung is sitting at. _there is no reason to be awkward,_ he chants internally, smiling as he draws up to the ravenet.

 

he flicks jinyoung casually on the back of his head. “hey, mind if i sit here?” the words sound more awkward, more formal than he thought, and he wants to cringe and run away.

 

the ravenet seems to thinks nothing of it, just giving him a full smile. _holy mother of god._ “why would i mind? you’re my fake boyfriend.” they've been referring to each other that way since that encounter with wurin that basically sealed their friendship. it's their inside joke.  _their inside joke._ mark likes the sound of that. “also, you wear glasses?”

 

“i was wearing contacts yesterday, because amusements parks, so yeah.” mark circles the table to take the seat opposite. “so, what’s up?” he asks as he sits down, opening his notebook and e.d. book. he inwardly cringes all over again at the fact that he used the most overused expression to try and start a conversation. he can’t believe he’s lived long enough to start finding himself cringey again.

 

“well, muneok is dead and jiyoo is trying to figure out who killed him, even though it is fairly obvious that it was his daughter’s boyfriend,” explains jinyoung, a slight delay between his words as he doesn’t look up from the book.

 

“cool,” says mark, picking up his pencil and beginning to sketch the 3-d image of a spring. his eyebrows furrow as he tries to concentrate. in retrospect, he thinks that coming down here was probably not a good idea because if he was distracted before, he’s even more distracted now that his distraction is sitting right in front of him. and for some reason keeps glancing behind him.

 

jinyoung’s not very subtle about it, so it’s easy for mark to notice. after the five hundredth time—or so it feels like to mark—the brunet finally decides to put his pencil down and say something about it. “is the book that boring that you have to keep looking around?”

 

“it’s noticeable?” asks jinyoung, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights.

 

“a bit, yes. it kinda makes you seem like an amateur undercover agent who’s been stationed here as a student for a mission that requires tracking someone or something,” whispers mark, his pencil tapping an absentminded beat on the edge of his page. “if that's the case, you're awfully sloppy about it.”

 

“i have a gun in my pocket, and hyung or not, i will not hesitate to use it if you rat me out,” smirks jinyoung, eliciting a quiet giggle from mark.

 

“no, seriously, what’s up with that? it’s like a nervous habit or something. like you’re jittery about something.” mark narrows his eyes. “or someone.” jinyoung glances behind the brunet again, and that’s when mark realizes that he’s been looking in the same direction all this time. he puts his arm over the back of his chair and is about to turn when jinyoung reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder.

 

“who is it?” says mark in a teasing tone. he’s highkey-lowkey hoping that all jinyoung is doing is keeping an eye on someone else’s boyfriend while that person is out for spring break, but that’s not the lucky turn that his situations generally take. his blood is running colder and colder in his veins, and all his worst suspicions are confirmed.

 

“okay, don’t turn,” says jinyoung in a low voice. his hand is still gripping mark’s shoulder, and he evidently doesn’t know how crazy it’s driving the brunet, who manages to look sane enough despite how much he wants to punch a wall at the moment. “the one at the counter? that’s won shinhyeo.”

 

“do you like him?” asks mark, raising an eyebrow and pulling his glasses down his nose, leaning towards jinyoung in an awful imitation of an interrogator. he needs a no at the moment. _please say no._ “do you?”

 

the ravenet doesn’t respond, shifting his gaze to the table in a move of blatant confirmation and mark sits back with a faux satisfied grin. he feels a little numb inside, like the hurt hasn’t fully set in yet, and there’s a little voice in him telling him that he probably should’ve suspected it. who was he to think he ever had a chance? he takes all the feelings that are swirling around in his chest and uses a trick that he has practiced too many times to be healthy. he takes each feeling and puts it into a box, pushing it to the very back of his mind and trying his best to just forget it.

 

“so what do you like about him?” mark raises his eyebrows, leaning back to tilt his chair onto its back legs. translation: _what does this person have that has you falling for him instead of falling for me back_? “is he nice? funny?” he pauses for a second. “have you even talked to him? like, do you _know him_ , know him?”

 

jinyoung’s cheeks turns the slightest shade of red at these words. “of course i know him, he’s in my literature class.”

 

“do you know him...personally?” persists the older, looking smug and unconvinced at the same time. translation: _is there the slightest possibility that you know me better than you know him_?

 

“define personally.”

 

“oh my god.”

 

“shut up,” snaps the ravenet, clapping a hand over his mouth when he realizes he said that a little too loud. he takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales through his mouth, plainly begging for patience.

 

“no, tell me about it, i’m interested,” grins mark, poking jinyoung’s arm playfully. translation: _i am the most jealous hoe in the world right now and i want to know why it is him and not me._ “tell me, tell me, t-t-t-t-t-tell me—”

 

“you’re astonishingly off-key,” points out jinyoung, picking at his fingernails indifferently.

 

“don’t change the subject.” translation: _WOULD YOU FUCKING STOP AND JUST SPILL, YOU USELESS FUCKTARD, YOU’RE DRIVING ME NUTS._

 

“you’re the one who started singing.” jinyoung casts another furtive glance behind mark. “and if we don’t quiet down, we’ll get kicked out of the library pretty soon.”

 

“for the record, i doubt we’ve been speaking-slash-singing at a volume loud enough to get kicked out for, but either way, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” says mark with a sly smile. “spill.”

 

“why should i tell you anything?” challenges jinyoung, frowning. “you’re basically a complete stranger. i’ve only known you for three days.”

 

“so? i’ve known wurin for four years and i still know you better than him. plus, i’m your fake boyfriend. i deserve to know about your fantasy boyfriend.”

 

jinyoung covers his face with his hands at those words. “ _fantasy_ boyfriend?”

 

“sorry. i meant future— _very real_ —boyfriend.” the words taste bitter in mark’s mouth, and he tries to not sound like he's spitting them out.

 

“aish, that’s not what i meant!” whisper-shouts the younger, lightly slapping his book to his forehead. “i meant that—that—”

 

“that what?” asks mark coolly. as much as his thoughts are swirling at the moment, he can’t help but think that a flustered jinyoung is a very cute jinyoung.

 

jinyoung sticks out his tongue immaturely. “you’re obnoxious.”

 

“so i’ve been told, but that’s not what you meant. that’s a good reason for trading my fake boyfriendship in for his real boyfriendship, but that doesn’t answer the question.” mark’s line of defence often springs from expressing his own hurt and everything else that he hates in very self-deprecating tones in the hope that maybe, just maybe, the other person will catch on, even if that won’t help the situation a bit.

 

“christ, i meant that he’ll never notice me, okay?” sighs jinyoung dejectedly.

 

 _no fucking kidding, i relate,_ mark wants to say. “you need a bit more confidence, my friend, what you—”

 

“ex- _cuse_ me?”

 

“what?” asks mark, slightly startled at the scowl on the other’s face.

 

“how dare you friendzone your fake boyfriend!” the last word of the sentence is decorated with a small laugh, which sends them both into fits of giggles. it’s funny. it actually really is. mark laughs at the irony, the conflict, the hilarity and the pain of the situation that exists in his head when he’s looking at it from the perspective of a third person.

 

“yo.” a ravenet walking by their table suddenly stops. mark recognizes him as do kyungsoo, from his mech classes, one of wurin’s friends. he’s never actually talked to him before, so this feels a little strange, and mark’s crawling back into his shell all over again, his smile becoming slowly more forced.

 

“so i heard you guys are a thing now?” asks kyungsoo, looking between the two with an impressed, yet marginally scrutinizing air. mark almost opens his mouth to say, _i wish_ , but thankfully his brain reacts before his mouth. also he’s wondering why and how the fuck kyungsoo came to know at all.  he glances over at jinyoung, who looks plain awkward. of course, mark’s the one who knows kyungsoo. he realizes he should probably say something.

 

“um, yeah.” the smile on the brunet’s face staggers for the briefest of seconds. “we’re, uh, together.” the words sound so weird in his mouth. if mark could describe it as a taste, it would a rancid mix of peanut butter, lime and banana.

 

“wurin’s like your number one shipper, y’know?” remarks kyungsoo, the corners of his lips turning slightly upwards, making him look distinctly childlike with the little smile that compliments his baby cheeks. mark would want to squish his cheeks too if it wasn’t for the fact that his blood is boiling at what he’s just registered. “he told us about you guys yesterday. couldn't stop talking about how cute you two are.”

 

mark swallows thickly, trying to not let his smile drop from his lips. _wurin, that diabolical, scheming excuse of a human being_. mark knows exactly what he’s doing. he’s testing mark to see if he was lying. and the last thing mark wants is to be made a gay mascot.

 

kyungsoo’s still rambling. “so, a year, huh? a miracle how you managed to keep it hidden for that long. i think it’s cool.” mark simply nods at the words, so the ravenet takes a step in his initial direction, saying, “okay, i’ll be off. see you around.”

 

as he leaves, a stunned silence seems to set between mark and jinyoung. mark drums an agitated rhythm with his pencil on the palm of his hand, and jinyoung just frowns, staring at the wooden table like it will tell him exactly what the heck that was all about.

 

at the same moment, they both decide to break the silence.

 

“what exactly was—”

 

“what exactly was—”

 

one look and they’re giggling again.

 

“okay, okay. serious face.” mark takes a deep breath while rearranging his expression and jinyoung nods back. “right. first thing, if i told you wurin was an asshole before, you’ve confirmed it for yourself now.”

 

“yeah, you don’t say,” agrees the younger, leaning back in his chair, book lying on the table, forgotten.

 

“second,” mark scrunches up his face as though searching for the right words before continuing. his heart is slightly hurting because this was not the way this was supposed to turn out. any of it. “i’m sorry i got you into this mess in the first place. i was just…being selfish. looking for the easiest way out. i didn’t bother to think, and for that, i apologize.”

 

there’s another small silence, and mark can feel jinyoung’s gaze on him, with all the piercing see-through power of an x-ray. finally, the ravenet speaks up, his words slower and his tone softer. “look, first of all, don’t say all that, it sounds so formal.”

 

“sorry.”

 

“second of all, quit apologizing.” his voice sounds so even, so calming. it washes over mark’s head like a peaceful melody. jinyoung _really_ would do well as a serial killer.

 

“sor—right.”

 

“about...the whole situation, we’ll figure something out.” he doesn’t sound convinced, so he repeats it once more, as though to offer himself a little security. a small bud of guilt blooms in mark’s chest. “and, like i said before, i’ve always wanted the fake boyfriend gig,” continues the ravenet, a slight smile back on his lips. “so this really ain’t a problem.”

 

“what about shinhyeo? now he’s going to think you have a boyfriend,” points out mark, concern lacing his words, though in all honesty, that’s what he cares the least about.

 

“i’ll...” jinyoung’s smile falters, turning vaguely melancholic. there’s an excruciatingly long pause before he finally says, “i’ll figure something out, i guess.”

 

“i’ll help you,” offers mark, wanting to kick himself as soon as he’s said it, because he knows he doesn’t mean that at all. he barrels on before jinyoung can stop him. “for starters, go talk to him.” he gets up and walks over to jinyoung’s side of the table, pulling on the younger’s arm. “go talk to him.”

 

“are you insane?” whispers jinyoung harshly, pulling his arm back from mark but getting up regardless. “i can’t go talk to him!”

 

“what do you mean, you can’t talk to him? he’s in your literature class! and he’s _human_ , for god’s sake!” mark’s volume verges on normal talking level, so the younger gestures to him to turn it down a bit.

 

“it would certainly be a nasty surprise if he wasn’t,” says jinyoung scathingly, before chancing one more glance and turning bashful. “i can’t go.”

 

“yes, you can, park jinyoung!” mark pumps his fist in the air, grabbing the younger by the shoulders and steering him in the direction of the librarian’s counter.

 

mark’s intentions are both honorable and very, very stupid. for one, he's barely ever able to go strike up a conversation with a person he finds attractive, but he feels this need to get jinyoung to, because he can't see another person regretting that they didn't attempt to even talk. second, he wants to get this possibility out of the way. mark knows that this very situation could go two ways. one way is that shinhyeo and jinyoung could hit it off, get together, get married and have poetic children, in which case mark would end up sad and lonely like before. the other way it could go is if jinyoung and shinhyeo just don't fit, and the ravenet can see that he's been wasting his time all along, and simply move on. put that way, it just seems like all mark wants to do is just help jinyoung out with his crush situation. so that's how the brunet convinces himself.

 

jinyoung leans back, resisting mark’s push and almost falling onto the older. “what do i say?” he asks helplessly.

 

“ask him if you need a library card to check him out,” grins mark cheekily, releasing his hold on jinyoung.

 

the ravenet scowls. “i might as well just ask him if it hurt when he fell from heaven, because that’s just how outdated that librarian joke is.”

 

“oh, come on, just try!” whines the older. “ask him about...literature stuff. ask him what books he’d recommend, or some bullshit like that.” jinyoung looks at him pleadingly, and mark turns dangerously close to changing his mind, before pulling himself away from the edge of the abyss of crush-induced wishy-washiness. “go. talk. to. him.”

 

jinyoung’s expression softens, then sharpens all over again, though this time it looks like he's thinking hard.

 

“what are you doing?” asks mark, amusement taking over his expression because he can almost hear the ravenet thinking, the squeaky cogs in jinyoung’s head turning.

 

“i’m formulating a conversation in my head, give me a second,” mutters jinyoung, and mark almost bursts out laughing. jinyoung’s got it bad, and mark can tell, because he’s got it bad as well.

 

“that won’t work, just go and fucking talk,” says mark, shoving jinyoung roughly, throwing him off-balance. the younger regains his footing quickly, sticking his tongue out at the brunet as he takes gradually slowing steps towards the librarian’s counter.

 

mark sits back down at the table, taking jinyoung’s original place so he can watch the little encounter. his leg jiggles under the table, disconnected to his mind, which is far, far away. he stares at his e.d. work and attempts to continue it, but he abandons it as he watches jinyoung finally approach the librarian’s counter after making about five detours.

 

he can actually sense the awkwardness emanating from the ravenet from across the room. he wants to yell at jinyoung for being that way, but then he reminds himself that he’d be the exact same way in that situation. actually, no. he wouldn’t even go up to talk in the first place.

 

jinyoung’s smiling and talking to shinhyeo, a huge smile on his face. mark thinks that if the redhead can’t see the embodiment of very obvious feelings that basically walked up to him, he won’t even be able to tell if it punches him in the face. mark wants to hide under the table when it looks like jinyoung said something embarrassing, judging by the way the ravenet seems to apologize and then cover his mouth, laughing more abashedly than usual.

 

the short conversation comes to an end and jinyoung starts walking back to the table, wide-eyed, flushed cheeks and looking like he can’t believe he survived that.

 

“how’d it go?” asks mark, his smile feeling almost painful, the tightness in his chest making a reappearance. not that it ever disappeared.

 

“i’ll tell you outside. come on, let’s go get something to eat, i’m so happy right now,” says jinyoung in a hushed voice, with an undertone of elation. his eyes are crinkled up and his smile is huge, lighting up his face. he takes mark’s wrist, pulling the older out of the library.

 

once they’re out in the fresh air, mark speaks up, the restriction on volume for the last hour causing him to speak a little louder than usual. “are you going to tell me how that went?”

 

“how it went? it went amazing. awesome. magnificent. lovely. splendid.” jinyoung does a little twirl right in the middle of the stone sidewalk and mark laughs at the ravenet’s dorkiness.

 

“so, average?” teases the older. his words are twisting in his windpipe, making them hard to get out. “what’d you say?”

 

“my excuse was looking for the sequel of the book that i was reading. genius, right?” jinyoung flips his bangs out of his face and mark wants to die. both from embarrassment because _really? that's what he talked about?_ and from being exposed to too much dorkiness for his heart to take. “right, so obviously he knew i was from his literature course—like duh, we’ve been in the same literature courses for the last two and a half years—and he asked me about my holiday literary project. and you know what he said?” he pauses dramatically. “he said he’d love to read it. my work, hyung! won shinhyeo wants to read _my_ work!”

 

“you say that like he’s an award-winning author or something,” remarks mark, speed-walking to keep up with jinyoung, who’s hyperactive as hell. the brunet’s rather skeptical about shinhyeo’s talent, but he supposes he's just biased. “i’m sure your work is amazing, and i don’t need to read it to say that. and you need to know that your work is amazing whether shinhyeo reads it or not.”

 

“yeah, i know that, but he actually spoke to me, hyung!” jinyoung sighs dreamily.

 

“you sound like a teenager who’s having his first crush,” mutters mark, trying to ignore that stupid clenching thing that his heart is doing. “keep your emotions in check. for your own good.”

 

“don’t be such a killjoy, hyung,” says the ravenet, bumping his hip against mark’s and throwing him off balance.

 

“i’m not being a killjoy. i’m just saying, be careful,” says mark, firmer this time. translation: _the last thing i want is to see you hurt._

 

“all right.” jinyoung puts an arm around the brunet’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “ever concerned about your fake boyfriend, huh?”

 

“that’s right,” nods mark, feeling the soft material of jinyoung’s long-sleeved shirt brushing his cheek with their mismatched steps. he almost wants to bury his head in the crook of the ravenet’s arm and just stay there. the fabric smells of something musky, the kind that would give you a headache if you inhaled it for too long, but mark thinks he’d like that headache. he’s not normally this cheesy—in fact, he can’t even remember the last time he thought something remotely this sappy. his thoughts mostly just consist of how much ice cream he needs to get through something, ways to murder wurin and make it look like an accident, and if jackson remembered to take the key before he left the dorm. the answer to that last thought was almost always no.

 

“you wanna go get ice cream?” asks jinyoung, breaking the momentary silence that set in.

 

“oh, yes, yes, pretty please!” squeals mark at the mention. he’s been an ice cream addict for as long as he can remember, and he has never ever refused such an offer.

 

jinyoung laughs at the sudden mood change. “there’s a place right outside uni. shall we go there?”

 

“mhmm,” nods mark. he knows the place. knows the owner and her ten-year-old daughter too. “and you’re treating me, since i was the one who made you go over and talk to him.”

 

“and i’m forever thankful for that,” grins jinyoung.

 

 _can’t say i feel the same,_ thinks mark, eyes glassing over, smile as fixed as ever.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i will not write a love triangle, i will not write a love triangle--well, fuck.  
> so?? thoughts on won shinhyeo?? or thoughts on anything?? let me know i'd love to hear :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**_—18 FEBRUARY_ **

**_21:01_ **   


 

**imjbomb**

**[** _last seen today; 0218; 1:56 pm_ **]**

 

**bookpark <**

hyung

 

**bookpark <**

hyung

 

**bookpark <**

hyUNG

 

**bookpark <**

HYUGN

 

**bookpark <**

IM JAEBUM HYUNG

 

**> imjbomb**

IS IT AN EMERGENCY R U OK

 

**> imjbomb**

JINYOUNG DO I NEED TO BRNIG OUT MY

AK47 OR A FIRST AID KIT OR DO I NEED

TO RUN BACK TO COLL RN TELL ME

QUIKC

 

**bookpark <**

i’m better than ok

 

**bookpark <**

shinhyeo SPOKE TO ME

 

**bookpark <**

HE WANTS TO LOOK OVER MY PROJECT

 

**> imjbomb**

what project

 

**> imjbomb**

you mean that bullshit you were typing up about

stories and their endings and how unclarity (i

know that’s not a word) is actually useful bc it

stimulates an air of mystery and speculation

 

**bookpark <**

you actually paid attention i’m crying

 

**bookpark <**

yes that bullshit

 

**bookpark <**

unfortunately i’m not awesome enough to

remember what your project was :\

 

**bookpark <**

something about habitat vs. genetic patterns?

 

**> imjbomb**

close enough i guess

 

**> imjbomb**

either way how exactly did you decide to go talk

to him you gutsy lil child

 

**bookpark <**

I AM NTO A CHIDL TAEK THAT BAKC

 

**bookpark <**

i was in the library and mark joined me and then i

was being my usual obvious self and then mark

kinda forced me to talk to him and won shinhyeo

talked to me and it was so beautiful like i cannot

like seriously

 

**> imjbomb**

you’re making this big a deal over him talking to

you what are you going to do if you actually ends

up liking you ??

 

**bookpark <**

ASDFGHJKLLKJHGFDSAZXCVBNM

 

**bookpark <**

oh my god i sound like former youngjae

 

**> imjbomb**

…

 

**> imjbomb**

how do i respond to that

 

**bookpark <**

i said that for me not for you so you can chill

 

**> imjbomb**

hol up you ran into mark today ?

 

**bookpark <**

yes he forced me into talking to shinhyeo and

then we went and got ice cream and hung out at

the park

 

**> imjbomb**

cute

 

**bookpark <**

yeah we’re adorable

 

**bookpark <**

and turns out some of the seniors think

marknyoung is a thing and we’re keeping that up

and its going great

 

**> imjbomb**

that’s...cool i guess ??

 

**> imjbomb**

do i still need to say that if he hurts

you i will kill him? i'm unfamiliar

with how this works in fake relationships ://

 

**bookpark <**

this is a fake relationship calm the hell down

 

**> imjbomb**

but that applies to shinhyeo

 

**> imjbomb**

im serious

 

**> imjbomb**

also shouldnt it be markyoung because the last

time i checked your name was jin-young

 

**bookpark <**

yea but he pronounces it jji-nyoung and so

 

**bookpark <**

yeah

 

**> imjbomb**

you change your name for this boy wtf

 

**bookpark <**

im just saying its rather adorable

 

**> imjbomb**

how’re you holding up alone ??

 

**> imjbomb**

miss me yet ??

 

**bookpark <**

it does feel weird sleeping here alone with no oaf

snoring and keeping me awake

 

**bookpark <**

peaceful sleep seems so last season

 

**> imjbomb**

just say you miss me

 

**bookpark <**

sigh i miss you ;(

 

**> imjbomb **

hang in there i’ll be back

 

**bookpark <**

how’s the family gathering going ??

 

**bookpark <**

must be awesome to have all your cousins and

relatives suddenly show up and give you an even

bigger reason to go home

 

**> imjbomb**

it’s tiring tbvh

 

**> imjbomb**

there are so many people here who i don’t

remember

 

**> imjbomb**

but they seem to remember that i had a habit of

chewing on my purple duck named jack when i

was a kid

 

**bookpark <**

that’s amusing

 

**> imjbomb**

that i used to chew on a duck? :\

 

**bookpark <**

no

 

**bookpark <**

that you called it jack 

 

**bookpark <**

what else is going on besides chewing on jack

 

**> imjbomb**

actually there’s a lot i have to tell you

 

**> imjbomb**

can i call now ??

 

**bookpark <**

its nine at night and im at home bc i have no

social life

 

**bookpark <**

no dont call im too busy :/

 

**> imjbomb**

:)

 

**_INCOMING CALL FROM …_ **

**JAEBUMMIE HYUNG**

 

 **ACCEPT** **DECLINE**

  
==

 

**_—19 FEBRUARY_ **

**_2:23_ **   
  


mark works like a zombie through the night shift.

 

even though the night shift has always been his strong suit, his nocturnal mood seems to be a bit broken today. he just doesn’t have the heart. kunpimook’s here on the night shift as well, keeping him company, but mostly just annoying him. mark’s been pulling at his fingers absently all night, drinking more coffee than he sells—but then again, it’s not like they’re flooded by customers during the night shift anyway. the caffeine spike in his veins jolting him back to his ground reality whenever he turns too sluggish. (“coffee _grounds_ , _ground_ reality, get it?” chuckles kunpimook, when mark complains about being too fatigued and how without the coffee he would’ve curled up into a fetal position and fallen asleep over the espresso machine. the brunet simply face-palms.)

 

the night shift isn’t all that bad. mark generally brings a book or some work along with him, since not many people tend to feel the urge to visit a small corner café between eleven p.m. and five a.m., except for fellow college students who need a steady supply of caffeine, but they've all gone home for the break now either way. kunpimook, despite being annoying, always has some interesting stories to share, and junmyeon is there as well, taking care of them like they’re his children, so mark’s good.

 

“what’s on your mind, mark?” asks junmyeon, as they sit down on the floor behind the counter once the latest customer has left. “you seem distracted.”

 

“nothing, hyung,” says the brunet, trying for a smile but giving up due to the weariness. “i`m just exhausted.”

 

“physically or emotionally?” junmyeon casts a scrutinizing eye over mark’s pale face, his slumping structure, his blank eyes.

 

mark can feel something welling up in his chest, his muscles contracting like something’s about to spill out of him, and as he exhales, his vision goes blurry. _tears, my old friend. it’s been quite a while._ he pulls his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead on the caps of his knees. he scrunches his eyes up tight, but he can still feel a rebellious tear find its way out. he swipes it away, and junmyeon shifts over to sit next to him. he doesn’t need to look up to know that kunpimook has an _i don’t know what to do_ face on while running his fingers through his bleached blond hair anxiously.

 

the worst part about suppressing feelings is the fact that they will surface, that hiding them away will not destroy them. mark just wishes that they didn’t have to surface right then. he likes to have these moments when he’s alone, when there’s no one around him to judge him, or to even comfort him.

 

first of all, he doesn't even know what the fuck is wrong with him. how do you get _this_ attached to a person you've only known for a couple of days? why is he getting this affected by the way that boy exists, the way he'd accidentally landed up in mark’s life, the way he's established his place in mark’s life in such a short time? mark’s not in _love_ , that's a bit of a stretch, but something resembling very strong feelings have rooted themselves within him, and he really just doesn't know what to do with them. he's not built for these surprise, whirlwind feelings. feelings that have turned his very world in a span of a couple days.

 

“do you want to talk about it?” asks the oldest, rubbing slow reassuring circles on mark’s back. the brunet shakes his head quickly. he can’t talk about this. he can’t talk how much he hates catching feelings. he doesn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that he’s literally calling it _catching feelings_. he doesn’t want to tell anyone about how he’s fallen for the boy with the crinkly eyes and huge smile that makes him weak in the knees and the fact that that boy is in love with someone else and mark can’t do anything but wish that it is him, even though he knows that that’ll probably never be the case.

 

“it’s okay, you can let it out,” continues junmyeon, his voice soothingly calm. kunpimook’s disappeared into the kitchen. mark scrunches up his eyes to the point where it begins hurting him, then takes a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists and biting his lip hard until the emotions are back below the surface. just enough that he can go a little more time without having to deal with them. he exhales, long and slow, before looking up. junmyeon is looking at him concernedly, and that’s exactly what mark doesn’t want.

 

he doesn’t want people concerned about him. he doesn’t want anything that happens to him to be the cause of worry to anyone else. and knowing how much junmyeon cares about the way mark feels—making bad jokes day in and day out just to keep him laughing, sneaking him secret hazelnut syrup laden drinks whenever he can, always asking whether he’s okay—he doesn’t want him to know, because he knows that he’d be signing junmyeon up for a whole bunch of worry.

 

“what’s bothering you?” persists the older once more. mark feels he owes junmyeon an explanation, because the fact does remain he came to the very verge of breaking down in front of him, so he opts for the first thing that comes to his mind.

 

“jackson’s friend brought over his pet, a cute little cat, and she didn’t like me.” mark’s voice is rough and tight, like he’s on the verge of crying, and he hopes the effect is good enough to make it believable. “like, it’s been like this my whole life. i had a pet dog, and he always liked my siblings better than me. i’ve always loved animals, but they never like me. there’s only so much a person can take.”

 

“i understand,” says kunpimook, finally coming down to sit next to the brunet. he hands mark a dish containing three scoops of chocolate ice cream with a spoon. “animals don’t like me either. sorry, boss, i had to steal this from your secret stash.”

 

“that’s not a problem,” says junmyeon distractedly, looking confused. “let me get this straight. you’re crying because animals don’t like you.”

 

“you don’t know what it’s like, hyung!” whines the youngest, putting an arm around mark supportively. mark silently thanks kunpimook for his support, but also slightly worries whether kunpimook actually does get worked up over animals not liking him.

 

“okay, okay.” junmyeon raises his arms in surrender. the little bell by the door rings, and he gets up to help the customer. “i’ll get that, you guys take a break.”

 

“who drinks coffee at two in the morning?” wonders mark out loud as he digs into the ice cream, keeping his voice down so that the customer can’t hear.

 

“who blames a near emotional breakdown on an unfriendly animal?” kunpimook shakes his head incredulously. “really, hyung, you need to work on your lying.”

 

mark grins tiredly, patting the younger on the shoulder. “thank you.”

 

“you’ll get through it, don’t worry,” says kunpimook, giving the brunet a firm nod. “mark tuan, fighting!”

 

“thanks, bam. goddamn, this ice cream is to die for,” gasps mark dramatically, eating ice cream with gusto.

 

“i know,” giggles the blond. “you should join me during one of my raids sometimes. junmyeon hyung has good taste.”

 

“i’m getting a padlock!” declares junmyeon, having returned in time to catch the last part of their conversation, and the other two burst out laughing.

 

 ==

 

**_—19 FEBRUARY_ **

**_1:16_ **

 

 

jinyoung wakes up in the middle of the night, not sure exactly why. he turns over, trying to get back to sleep, but of no avail. he hates waking up in the middle of the night because it makes it extremely hard for him to fall asleep again. he checks the time on his phone that he’s stowed under his pillow. 1:18 a.m., it reads. he’s barely gotten a couple hours of sleep after that hour-long conversation with jaebum. he drags himself out of bed, making his way out of the room and to the kitchen.

 

_okay, turn the doorknob. look around to check for unearthly presences._

_are you honestly scouring for ghosts._

_no._

_yeah, you am._

_holy christ what was that noise?_

_you’re imagining things now. calm the fuck down._

_turn the light on._

_like ghosts will leave if you flick on the light, smh._

_ghosts don’t exist, right? RIGHT?_

_oh my god, stop!_

 

regardless, he flicks on every light he can on his way there. horror movies don’t really scare the ravenet, but let’s just say that he shall never buy a mirrored cabinet. ever. for…medical reasons.

 

once he reaches the kitchen, he drinks a glass of water, before figuring he should probably make something to eat if he’s up and in the kitchen anyway. he opens the cupboard, coming face to face with packs and packs of ramyeon, their student staple diet. in complete honesty, ramyeon is the only things that jinyoung knows how to make properly, but he’s experimented with it so many times, with so many different ingredients and flavors that he could call himself a ramyeon expert.

 

he pulls out a pack of cheese and an egg from the small fridge they own and makes himself some of his standard ramyeon. he sits on the kitchen counter, bowl in hand, slurping loudly just to fill up the silence. the absence of noise makes his ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. the silence rings in his ears. he’s wide awake now. wide awake and confused, unsure of what to do now.

 

he sees his phone on the counter next to him. _why not?_

 

 ==

 

**_—19 FEBRUARY_ **

**_1:56_ **

 

 

**bookpark**

 

 **[** _online_ **]**

 

**> bookpark**

what if fish were allergic to peas but nobody ever

knew because fish don’t eat peas

 

**markmywords <**

park jinyoung are you drunk

 

**> bookpark**

no i just needed a conversation starter

 

**markmywords <**

what are you doing up ??

 

**> bookpark**

i couldn’t sleep

 

**markmywords <**

what can i do about that

 

**> bookpark**

talk to me

 

**markmywords <**

why me

 

**> bookpark**

bc youre just that boring

 

**> bookpark**

kidding i just guessed you’d be the only one up

this late

 

**markmywords <**

*early

 

**markmywords <**

im actually working

 

**> bookpark**

oh !

 

**> bookpark**

should i stop texting you ??

 

**markmywords <**

no im basically just paid for keeping awake the

whole night so it really doesn’t matter

 

**markmywords <**

it’s boring to the highest power :\

 

**> bookpark**

oh

 

**> bookpark**

do you need company ??

 

**markmywords <**

are you offering to hang out with me in the middle

of the night

 

**> bookpark**

i just need an absence of silence and loneliness

 

**> bookpark**

so i have an absolutely selfish motive behind it

don’t be too flattered

 

**markmywords <**

i’m fake breaking up with you

 

**> bookpark**

aHhAAHAH NO WHAT i MEAnt waS tHAt i

wanted to SEE My ABSOlutelY AmaZIINg faKE

BOYFRIend

 

**markmywords <**

that was pathetic but okay

 

**markmywords <**

you know café 247?

 

**> bookpark**

you work there?

 

**> bookpark**

that close? i’ll be there in ten

 

**markmywords <**

okie :-)

 

kunpimook pokes mark’s ribs as the older sets down his phone with a grin. “what’s got you possessed by chez?”

 

“chez means ‘at the place of’ in french,” informs mark, eyebrows raised, already pulling at his fingers—though this time in anticipation, not nervousness. “why would i be possessed by a place?”

 

“chez is my nickname for the cheshire cat,” huffs the blond in an offended tone, picking up a mug from the counter and cleaning it just to have something to do. mark’s seen kunpimook clean that cup about seven times in the past hour, and is _this_ close to wrenching it from his grip and throwing it out the window.

 

“are you guys on nickname terms, then? you know him personally?” enquires mark, humoring the younger. it’s honestly not the weirdest conversation they've had.

 

“he’s the only animal who likes me. he comes to all my fashion shows and whistles and throws roses,” explains kunpimook, laughing between words, turning nearly breathless with chortles at the end of the sentence. “for real, though. alice in wonderland was my favorite movie as a kid, and the cheshire cat was my imaginary friend for so long.”

 

junmyeon wanders over, eyes fixed on his phone and one earphone in with the other thrown over his shoulder. “imaginary friends?” he asks distractedly, looking up as though coming out of a trance.

 

“yeah, did you ever have any, hyung?”  asks mark. junmyeon shakes his head, eyes going back to his phone.

 

“what’re you watching?” asks kunpimook, tugging the phone away from the oldest with a smirk. “spring day? again?”

 

“it’s a freaking aesthetic, leave me alone,” sniffs junmyeon, pulling his phone back.

 

“how many times over, though? i like bangtan too, but you take it to a whole other level,” says mark, shaking his head.

 

“they are my children and i shall support them, don’t fight me on this,” says junmyeon, sticking out his tongue, leaving the other two laughing as he goes back to the other side of the counter, eyes glued to the screen.

 

just then, the little bell by the door rings, and mark’s heart leaps. he turns around, only to be horrifyingly disappointed, seeing that it’s just another late night customer, but not the one he expected. he jumps up, telling kunpimook that he’ll take this one.

 

“hi, welcome to café 247, may i take your order?” he asks in the perfect, practiced way, a smile on his face. once the order’s taken, he goes to make it, only to see that there’s no more chocolate syrup left. he goes to the back room to search for it. everything is stacked about haphazardly, because junmyeon is a slob and is satisfied with the way things are arranged way too easily. it takes him what seems like forever, but he finally finds the box of chocolate syrups, grabbing a bottle and leaving the storeroom.

 

he walks out just as kunpimook’s yelling for him. “mark hyung, a friend of yours is here!” mark’s stomach seems to drop. not in the terrified, awful way, but in the terrified, elated way, because standing near the counter, wearing an oversized navy blue hoodie with the hood pulled over his head (one of the mysteries of life—what is with guys and looking annoyingly good in oversized hoodies?) and a sleepy smile, is park jinyoung, in all his precious glory.

 

“h-hey.” mark’s so robbed of breath for a second that he trips over the word he’s probably said most in his life. _stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he chides himself internally. _you’re being so fucking obvious, you make romeo and juliet look subtle._

 

“hey,” smiles the ravenet, giving him a small wave as the older walks over to the edge of the counter right opposite. jinyoung casts a glance at junmyeon and kunpimook, who are watching the two of them strangely, and then whispers, “it’s okay that i’m here, right?”

 

“yeah, yeah, of course,” says mark quickly. he suddenly remembers the chocolate syrup in his hand. “just give me a second. you can...sit down,” he finishes awkwardly.

 

mark makes the drink as fast as he can and hands it to the other customer with a smile. kunpimook walks over to the brunet. “who’s that?” asks the younger with a teasing smile.

 

“that’s my friend,” says mark quickly, discouraging any further conversation on the topic.

 

“whoa, back up. why so crabby?” questions kunpimook, raising his eyebrows.

 

“i’m not crabby,” contradicts the brunet, pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly and walking away from kunpimook before the younger has the chance to say anything else.

 

junmyeon asks jinyoung if he’d like anything, to which the ravenet replies that he’d like a cappuccino, just to be polite. mark is about halfway to jinyoung’s table when kunpimook calls out, “aren’t you going to introduce us?”

 

mark looks from kunpimook and junmyeon, who are looking at him expectantly, to jinyoung, who’s watching the three with mild interest. “jinyoung, this is kunpimook and junmyeon hyung. you two, this is jinyoung. he’s my friend from uni.”

 

“you have friends besides jackson? that’s surprising,” says kunpimook, and mark just rolls his eyes at him. he can’t exactly make out what kunpimook and junmyeon are whispering about as he sits down next to jinyoung on the bench, but he can definitely hear the assuming giggles, and he swears he’s going to kill them later.

 

“sorry, they’re always like that,” apologizes mark, and jinyoung just waves a hand dismissively. “that whole talking to shinhyeo thing got you robbed of sleep or what?” yes, mark sounds bitter, but jinyoung doesn’t catch on, merely chuckling at the comment.

 

“no, i’m just can’t go to sleep once i’ve woken up. it’s a kind of insomnia,” says jinyoung with a large yawn, his face scrunching up in a childlike manner that has mark smiling fondly without realizing it. “sorry.”

 

“you seem like you could drop off right now, though,” remarks mark, glancing at the younger’s sleepy eyes and puffy face. jinyoung simply shrugs, scooting over a little closer and resting his head on mark’s shoulder. _must not react, must not react,_ chants the brunet internally, hoping kunpimook won’t choose this moment to do something stupid like whoop or wolf-whistle.

 

it’s been like this the whole day. one thing that is palpably obvious about jinyoung is the fact that he is unapologetically affectionate. it started off subtle, three days ago, when they first met—small touches on the arm, brushing shoulders—but then jinyoung kind of let himself take down the walls and bring in the affection today—putting his arm around mark’s shoulders, ruffling mark’s hair, catching hold of mark’s hand when he got excited about something, hanging onto mark’s arm when he was in the mood to tease and be annoying. and mark knows he’s torturing himself by not pulling away, by not deterring jinyoung, but it feels too nice to stop.

 

even now, he feels like he should feel like there’s something wrong with this situation, because doesn’t jinyoung like shinhyeo? but technically mark wasn’t the one who started bestowing the other with a ton of affection, so he lets it slide, taking it to just be the way jinyoung is. because now, heavy-eyed jinyoung is pressed against his side, his arm entangled with mark’s, and the older really doesn’t know what to do. his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he accesses it with his free hand.

 

**> junemyeon**

You can take the rest of the shift off. I won’t take

it off your pay, so don’t worry.

 

mark turns towards the counter, where kunpimook and junmyeon are looking at the two of them with smug grins and thumbs-ups. the brunet sends them a half-embarrassed, half-thankful smile. kunpimook and junmyeon like assuming that every human being who comes into contact with mark is immediately eligible to be shipped with him. admitted, they’ve done it quite a few times when people—boys and girls alike—have slipped their number to mark, enamored by his foreign beauty, but in this case the brunet himself has to concede that they’re justified.

 

jinyoung’s breathing softly and steadily, a sure sign that he’s on his way to deep sleep. mark puts his hand on jinyoung’s cheek tentatively, smiling as the younger, still just half-asleep, leans into his touch. he shifts his position and frees his arm from jinyoung’s grip, putting it around the ravenet instead. jinyoung is so warm with his head resting on mark’s chest, and the older can feel his eyes closing, sleep clawing at his senses.

 

he gives in.

 

a couple hours later, he wakes up in the exact same position with someone whispering his name in his ear. “mark, wake up.” he blearily blinks, almost having a heart attack when he turns slightly to find jackson’s grinning face less than three inches away from his. then he registers that he’s still holding a sleeping jinyoung, and it takes him a minute to remember how exactly they ended up like that.

 

mark addresses jackson, “what’re you doing here?”

 

“bammie called me,” explains the younger, still grinning that shit-eating grin. “he told to prepare myself, but i sure as hell didn’t prepare myself for this.”

 

“hush!” hisses mark, freeing one of his hands to try and slap jackson, only for his sleep-affected coordination to fail him miserably. he rubs the side of his face where his glasses have dug into his skin and left their imprint, wincing slightly.

 

“you might wanna wake your boyfriend up,” says jackson, glancing at jinyoung. “it’s four forty-five in the morning, and the shift change is in fifteen minutes.”

 

“jinyoungie,” whispers mark, shaking the younger slightly, then with a bit more force. the ravenet’s eyes flutter open, and he takes a moment on his own to register where he is and how he got there. he lifts his head up, looking at mark and jackson sheepishly. his voice is rough and raspy and sleep-tainted. “sorry.” mark’s heart jumps a little.

 

“is this the famous jinyoung?” asks jackson, knowing the answer all too well. he’s hyperactive even at this time of the morning, and mark finds that amazing yet slightly frightening.

 

mark scowls at the taunt in the words, keeping his arm around jinyoung even after the latter sits up, blinking and rubbing his eyes in a disoriented manner. he knows that jackson meeting jinyoung is an equivalent to signing his own death warrant. “jinyoung, this is jackson wang, my best friend. jackson, this is park jinyoung—“

 

“say no more, markiepooh,” grins jackson, and mark wants to crawl into a hole and die. or maybe kick jackson into a hole and leave him to die instead.

 

jinyoung looks amused. “markiepooh?”

 

“it’s just a nickname,” says mark hurriedly.

 

“you can call him that,” adds jackson cheerfully, earning a death glare from the oldest.

 

“call me that and i will end you,” threatens mark.

 

jinyoung laughs. “wasn’t going to. i’d probably cringe more than you.” jackson laughs, the concept of _cringe_ lost to him a long time ago.

 

“mark, i’d like an americano, please. extra sugar, the way you know i like it,” requests jackson, earning a confused look from the addressed. “you _do_ work here, right?”

 

“yeah, i’m just wondering since when you liked americanos,” retorts mark, getting up and walking over to the counter to get the sleep out of his bones. he feels like he’s walking filled with cement. his legs are heavy and his movements are uncoordinated, like he’s a statue getting used to the idea that he’s come to life.

 

“if you have the energy to make me a fudge d’lite, then please do,” calls jackson, taking the seat mark just vacated. “i’m going to talk to my new friend here.”

 

mark grabs a tall glass and begins filling it with the required contents. junmyeon, noticing that the brunet’s awake, makes his way to him. mark, noticing the older’s presence, smiles gratefully. “thanks for letting me off.”

 

“not a problem, mark. i have to thank jackson for waking you up. bam just left.”

 

“i’m really, really sorry. i’ll make up for the hours. i actually didn’t plan on sleeping, you know. i was just tired and—“ mark can tell he’s talking too fast from the face junmyeon’s making. he quickly catches himself, going back to the fudge d’lite. “sorry.”

 

“it’s really quite all right. you didn’t seem yourself last night. i think you did deserve a break.”

 

“thanks a ton.”

 

“don’t mention it or i’ll think something’s up,” says the older with a twinkle in his eye. “that’s a cute boyfriend you’ve got yourself.”

 

mark feels like kicking something. or maybe pouring jackson’s drink all over him might help alleviate his anger. “he’s not my boyfriend,” he chooses to mumble.

 

“so, you’re just sleeping together?” teases junmyeon.

 

“hyung!” exclaims mark, scandalized.

 

“what? that’s what you were doing!” justifies the older, barely holding in his laughter.

 

“hyung, just…no. we’re just friends.”

 

a beat of silence. “you know it’s all right, right?” asks junmyeon, voice characteristically soft.

 

“yeah, i get that,” says mark, slamming the chocolate syrup bottle down with a little more force than necessary. he doesn’t continue, because he doesn’t want to say, _that’s the problem._ he chances a glance at jinyoung and jackson. jackson has his charm turned on, mark’s jackson radar picks it up from a distance. jinyoung looks tentative, because he’s dealing with jackson who’s being well, jackson—loud and obnoxious and having no sense of privacy or space. mark gets the feeling. he knows what it’s like to deal with jackson in the most unadulterated state possible.

 

“here’s your fudge d’lite,” says mark quietly, putting the drink down on the table and causing jackson to start.

 

“thank you so much! did you put extra chocolate sauce the way i like it?” asks jackson perkily, pulling the drink towards him enthusiastically.

 

“no.”

 

“ah, well. too bad.”

 

mark checks his watch, and right on time, the bell at the door dings, and in walks yixing, the day shift manager. he’s basically junmyeon’s equivalent between five a.m. and five p.m. at the café. he waves to mark, who waves back, walking back to the counter to hang his apron up so he can bust out of there.

 

“hey, hyung,” he greets yixing. junmyeon draws up to them, and mark can immediately detect a change in yixing’s smile. it becomes just the slightest bit brighter.

 

“how was the shift, myeon?” enquires yixing, his voice containing his signature lilt. he is a foreigner, just like mark, the only difference being that yixing owns korean. at first glance, it isn’t easy to pick him out as a foreigner, considering his level of fluency in the language.

 

“it was the usual, yixing-ah,” smiles junmyeon obliviously. mark almost wants to smack him upside the head because junmyeon just doesn’t seem to see how yixing looks at him like he holds up the sun and the moon. he just doesn’t seem to notice the hearts outlined and emboldened in yixing’s eyes. he doesn’t seem to notice the melancholic acceptance in yixing’s face every time he is blatantly best-friendzoned. mark can’t help but feel like he slightly relates to yixing now.

 

the bell rings, announcing the arrival of two of the employees of the morning shifts—nayeon and jihyo. mark takes this as his cue to leave. jackson, who’s wolfed his drink down at an inhuman speed, is waiting outside with jinyoung. mark joins them with a smile which is the slightest bit forced because every cell in his boy is screaming at him to treat jackson to a smackdown right then and there. he doesn’t know what jackson has said so far, but he does know that the innocent look on his face is anything but genuine.

 

“i brought the car,” informs jackson, strolling down the sidewalk with a merry little skip in his step, as compared to the other two, who trail behind like zombies. “why don’t we drop you back, jinyoung?”

 

“if it isn’t too much trouble,” says jinyoung, stifling a yawn behind his hand.

 

“how polite,” chuckles jackson, as they draw up to the car. “so sweet!”

 

mark goes to sit in the shotgun seat, but jackson’s hand pushes the door shut as he tries to open it.

 

“what?” snaps the older.

 

“you’re not sitting in the shotgun seat,” says the younger seriously.

 

“why?”

 

“you’ll distract me.”

 

“you’ve driven so many times before with me in the front seat. why stop now?”

 

“because you will distract me, mark, and i say get in the backseat before jinyoung thinks something’s going on.”

 

if looks could kill, jackson would be a steaming puddle on the pavement right about then. “you’re the one who’s going to make it look like something’s going on.”

 

“well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” jackson’s tone basically dares mark to go on.

 

mark narrows his eyes. “i know what you’re doing.”

 

jackson hums obnoxiously in response, wiggling his eyebrows. “and that’s why you will go along with it.”

 

mark hisses at jackson, who hisses right back, making them seem like a pair of toddlers but that’s exactly what they behave like, so it’s not too off. and so it’s with a groan of exasperation and annoyance that mark gets into the backseat, and jackson starts the engine, suddenly turning extremely quiet.

 

mark keeps his gaze fixed ahead, only turning when the ravenet beside him tugs on his sleeve. “i’m really sorry i fell asleep on you, hyung,” whispers jinyoung, looking guilty and embarrassed, and for once, looking like he’s actually younger than mark. “you won’t get fired, will you?”

 

“oh, please, junmyeon hyung loves me. he wouldn’t fire me in a million years. who else would laugh at his jokes then?” says mark, laughing at the end of the sentence to make the younger feel better. he can feel jackson’s _oh you cute little dork_ vibe that he’s giving out.

 

“i’m really sorry.”

 

“second of all, quit apologizing,” says mark, holding up his hand with a smirk.

 

“that was the worst imitation anyone has ever done of me and i’m even counting the spiteful ones,” comments jinyoung, shaking his head and eliciting a laugh from jackson.

 

“sorry.” mark lets out a quiet little self-conscious laugh.

 

a pause. “for real, i’m sorry,” says jinyoung finally, all humor eliminated from his tone. “i should really get used to staying alone.”

 

mark does something he doesn’t expect himself to do. he reaches out and takes jinyoung’s hand, lightly squeezing it as a sign of reassurance. the ravenet seems a bit surprised at first, then squeezes back with a small smile.

 

“if you want, you can stay over at casa del markson for a few nights if you get too lonely,” offers jackson, the casualness in his tone in no way a reflection of the fanboy attacks that mark can tell he’s going through right now.

 

“yeah, that’d be nice,” seconds mark, though all he’s thinking is that that would be the worst idea on the planet. he can’t help reacting like this. catching feelings isn’t something he does often, so when it does happen he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

 

“that would be,” agrees jinyoung courteously, his words directed more towards mark than jackson. mark beams back.

 

and doesn’t let go of his hand for the rest of the ride.

 

(not that jinyoung actually makes any attempt to pull away.)

 

 ==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, thoughts? this chapter was kinda meh i'm sorreh.  
> school has got me so exhausted right now. do send love. (or youngjae, i can't tell the difference.)


	5. Chapter 5

**_—19 FEBRUARY_ **

**_11:42_ **

**seewhyjay**

**[** _ online  _ **]**

> **seewhyjay**

jinyoungie hyungie ! ^v^

 

**bookpark <**

whATS uP MY FAVoriTE donGSAENg

> **seewhyjay**

i’m screenshotting that so you can’t deny it next 

time :O

 

**bookpark <**

that screenshot will be what i wrap the bouquet of 

chrysanthemums in

**> seewhyjay**

hyung !! i thought you’d be mad !! you got me 

flowers ?! \\(^^)/

 

**bookpark <**

chrysanthemums are funeral flowers

**> seewhyjay**

why would you do that ?? i like happy flowers 

!!!!!!!!!!!! ;(

 

**> seewhyjay**

get me the flowers you’d get when a baby is born  。^‿^｡ 

 

**> seewhyjay**

babies are cute ♡♡

 

**bookpark <**

never mind 

**> seewhyjay**

r u @ work right now ??

 

**bookpark <**

yupp~ mina couldn’t make it in today so i have to 

take her shift as well and so i’m here for the whole day

**> seewhyjay**

how’s merch n’ more’s crew doing w/o their favorite

salesperson ? ;)

 

**bookpark <**

*second favorite salesperson

**> seewhyjay**

oh right !! minseok hyung does seem to slightly 

favor mina over me :\

 

**bookpark <**

…

**bookpark <**

for starters thats not who i was referring to

**bookpark <**

and second of all

**bookpark <**

we all know that minseok hyung favors jongdae 

hyung ;)

**> seewhyjay**

does the fact that we r gay affect the way we see 

other people or something ?? ._.

**bookpark <**

well considering that most fangirls arent gay but 

still see pretty much all idols as so should be 

taken into account

**> seewhyjay**

i seriously doubt that some of them arent though

 

**> seewhyjay**

bangtan more like bang-man

 

**bookpark <**

*CHOKES*

**bookpark <**

mY INNOCENT LITTLE BABY HOW CAN 

YOU MAKE A JOKE LIKE THAT

**> seewhyjay**

dont yell ;(

 

**bookpark <**

sorry

**bookpark <**

gotta go we have a new shipment in

**> seewhyjay**

aight ttyl ^^

 

**bookpark <**

ttyl bye

_ read: 11:54 AM _

—

**bookpark <**

OHM Y GO D

**bookpark <**

J A E

**bookpark <**

yOUNGJAAAAAAAAE

**bookpark <**

yaH ChOI YoUNgJAE

**bookpark <**

XNIAUEF

**bookpark <**

SNIQECNOMWXMIEWCN

**> seewhyjay**

WHAT IS IT DO THEY FINALLY HAVE THE 

SNSD MERCH THAT I HAVE BEEN ASKING 

THEM ABOUT FOR MONTHS ?????????

 

**bookpark <**

EVEN BETTER

**bookpark <**

THIS SEASON’S LIMITED EDITION PIECES

ARE HEREEEEEE

**bookpark <**

and

**bookpark <**

thERE’s 

**> seewhyjay**

WHAT ? WHAT ? WHAT ? WHAT ? WHAT 

???????

 

**bookpark <**

remember those pieces of harry potter merch that 

we were looking up the other day ?? c:

**> seewhyjay**

GET OUT

 

**> seewhyjay**

TH E PINS ?!?

 

**> seewhyjay**

THE HOGWARTS PINS WITH THE EMBLEM 

???????

 

**> seewhyjay**

NO WAYYYYYYYYYYYY (OWO)

 

**bookpark <**

THEY HAEV YHEM JAEE

**bookpark <**

TH E B EAUT IFUL PINS WITH TEH 

EMBLEM ADN THE SLOGNA AND THE 

COLROS AND EVEREYTHIGN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**bookpark <**

i wanna scream so loud but i think jongdae hyung 

might judge me

**bookpark <**

BUT THEYRE RAELLY REALLLY THERE !!!!!

**bookpark <**

they’re bloody expensive though

**bookpark <**

and we can’t use employee benefits for limited 

edition pieces D:

**bookpark <**

we r doomed to staring at the little piece of 

heaven wistfully for the rest of our life

**> seewhyjay**

why dont we pool our money and buy one 

together ??

 

**bookpark <**

we all know our friendship will go to shit bc we 

each will fight for custody

**> seewhyjay**

ARgH tHE F R U S T R A T I O N

 

**bookpark <**

ok

**bookpark <**

here’s the plan

**bookpark <**

we shall rob the korean national bank

**bookpark <**

i have connections

**> seewhyjay**

okAY when ?? (OuO)

 

**bookpark <**

when you go one day without singing

**> seewhyjay**

we’re never getting those pins.

 

**bookpark <**

;(

_ read: 12:13 AM _

 == 

**_—19 FEBRUARY_ **

**_9:46_ **

“mark.”

 

“mhmm,” hums mark absentmindedly, bopping his head to the music leaking into his ears through his earphones while sitting on the floor and trying for what seems to be the nth time to sketch a hydraulic compress properly.

 

jackson rips one of the older’s earphones out. “stop ignoring me!”

 

“i’m not ignoring you!”

 

“it’s been hours since you last spoke to me properly. can you at least tell me what the problem is?” jackson asks, flopping down next to mark with a pout.

 

“oh gee, i really wonder, jackson,” says mark, his voice monotonic. “what could you possibly have done to get me annoyed?”

 

the younger groans in frustration. “is this honestly about me calling you markiepooh in front of jinyoung?”

 

“no, it’s about a little more than that,” states mark evenly. it's about a _ lot _ more than that.

 

“then what?” wails jackson, stretching the vowel of the last word.

 

mark snaps. he’s been suppressing too much again. then again, over the past twenty-four hours, he’s had far more to suppress than usual, not to mention the fact that he’s running low on sleep and caffeine. “you wanna know? i’ll tell you. it’s the way you carried yourself. the way you carried the conversation. the not-so-subtle jabs, the sing-song-ness of your tone—everything just kind of made it look like i like him, and you knew, and you were trying to tell him that!”

 

jackson looks stunned for a long moment before he finally says in an awed tone, “you know. the thing is, that’s probably the longest you’ve said in one turn of conversation with me. the other thing is that it is physically impossible to carry yourself. i mean, how does that even work—“

 

mark scowls. “are you legitimately being serious right now?”

 

jackson smiles sheepishly. “no. but!”—he throws his hand up as mark opens his mouth again—“but i am now, so please stop glaring like that.”

 

“fine.”

 

“the last thing i wanted to say is,” jackson takes a dramatic pause, squinting at mark’s face probingly. “ _ don’t  _ you like him?”

 

mark is perplexed by that question. he doesn’t exactly know how to answer it. does he like him? a humongous, established, absolute  _ yes _ . but can he say that, after being enlightened to the whole shinhyeo situation? a humongous, established, absolute  _ no _ .

 

“it doesn’t matter whether i like him.” says the older bluntly.

 

“oh yeah?” challenges jackson, raising an eyebrow. (mark has always been jealous of that ability.) “and why does it not matter?”

 

“because…” mark motions with his hands but jackson doesn't seem to get it.

 

“because what?”

 

“because he likes someone else.” mark sounds so exhausted, so worn, so defeated that jackson takes it that he has no choice but to wrap his arms around the older in a huge, comforting hug. mark lets out a breath he doesn’t realize he’s been holding, allowing tears to fill his eyes this time. he figures it’s about time to let out what’s trapped and destroying him inside out. 

 

jackson might not be the best at comfort or serious conversation, but he’s the best when it comes to knowing mark. jackson has literally seen every side of mark from when he has been at his highest, and when he hit rock-bottom, so there is no other person in the world who mark trusts and knows will accept what he feels than jackson wang.

 

“who does he like?” asks jackson softly, removing mark’s glasses and placing the them on the floor next to him.

 

“it doesn’t matter,” repeats mark, sniffling now, his tears soaking jackson’s tee. he swipes angrily at his tears, wondering for the nth time why he’s so affected.  _ honestly, why? it doesn’t even make any sense. _

 

“if it’s affecting you this much then yes, it does matter. do you want to tell me about it?” coaxes the younger. “you’ll feel better if you talk about it. i speak from experience.”

 

“i don’t know where to start,” says mark, shaking as tears spill from his eyes without much break between them, causing jackson to hold him tighter.

 

“okay, okay. breathe. just breathe. cry all you want, that’s all right. once you’re ready to talk, we’ll talk,” assures jackson, rubbing mark’s arm consolingly. he pats the older’s head softly, stroking the caramel-brown hair that is a few shades lighter than his own. mark doesn’t say much for a while, a hurricane of thoughts ripping through his brain, getting slower and slower with every tear, every breath.

 

“okay. i’m ready,” says mark finally, his voice wobbly and gravelly. he tries to sit up so he can face jackson, but the younger pulls his head back down to the crook of his neck, murmuring, “this is for both you and me.” nothing affects either of them more than seeing the other cry. mark has only seen jackson cry once, and he's sure he'd never like to see that again. jackson not being happy just scares him. it feels unnatural.

 

“where do i start?” enquires mark, as jackson stretches out so they’re both more comfortable.

 

“tell me why you like him in first place,” prompts the younger steadily.

 

mark’s eyebrows scrunch together. “i can’t pinpoint one particular reason. i just do.”

 

“maybe you’re just deprived,” wonders jackson out loud, earning him a slap on the arm.

 

“this is really not the time.” also, he's sure that's not the reason. the thought had crossed his mind, but he's sure he's not that stupid. mark would never feel attracted to someone because he was deprived. he just doesn't. that's why this is different.

 

“i’m sorry. go on.”

 

“i just…it’s the way he exists, okay? like, he could be mistaken for being just another boring human being who no one notices—i’m saying excluding the time he yelled at me, he said he couldn’t believe he did that either—but once you get to know him, you realize that he’s actually so much more. like, he genuinely cares for people who he likes. there’s nothing fake about him. he doesn’t wear a mask—he’s awkward and stupid and unintentionally funny—and you can tell he’s not ashamed to be who he is, and that’s endearing. oh, dear god, i sound so whipped. moving on. he has this fucking adorable harry potter obsession and a way of romanticizing everything, and when he’s savage, it’s like the cutest yet most cutting thing ever. like drawing a smiley face on a knife or something like that, if that makes any fucking sense. and he has this aura that just makes me want to keep talking to him. i’m not generally like that. i run away from people.” mark pauses to take a breath, wondering if he’s said too much, or if jackson even gets what he’s said.

 

“so what you’re saying is that he brings out a whole new side of you?” verifies jackson.

 

“it’s not a new side. it’s just the side that i generally try to hide away. the side that thinks a lot about deep bullshit and issues that matter, a side that says stuff without thinking, a side that actually likes a ton of affection—okay, wait, you see that last side too—never mind! i know it’s only been three days since i met him, but it feels like i’ve known him for a long time. like, we just get along.” the older pauses for a second to let out a hoarse, slightly painful laugh. “my point is that…he’s the kind of person that i would do clichéd bullshit for,” finishes mark, his last few words much quieter than the rest.

 

“but…?”

 

mark’s sigh is long and drawn-out. “he likes another boy. shin wonhyun or something.”

 

“won shinhyeo?” clarifies jackson.

 

“yeah, yeah. i figured you’d know him,”  says mark, rolling his eyes in an affectionate manner.

 

“of course i do, i know everyone!” there's plain pride in the younger’s voice, and he tries (and fails) to mask that. “shinhyeo is like the literature branch’s ace, you know?”

 

“figured. jinyoung’s a bit of a nerd himself, no wonder he’d go for one,” snorts mark humorlessly.

 

“ah, markie. don’t worry. i’m sure it’s just a passing crush,” consoles jackson, patting mark’s back sympathetically.

 

“no, it isn’t. he looks at him like he’s made of stars or something, okay?” mark forcefully sits up, glaring at the younger with red eyes and an anger that is not for him. “and from the way he spoke about him, jinyoung’s liked this guy since freshman year. and you know what i did?” jackson raises his eyebrows questioningly. “i made him go over and  _ talk _ to him.”

 

“you’re stupid,” deadpans jackson plainly. “and so is he, if he’s liked a guy for a near two years and still not talked to him.”

 

“i know!” groans mark, tugging at his hair in vexation. “now they’re going to get married, they’re going to make babies—“

 

“that’s something that’s physically, chemically and biologically impossible,” reminds jackson, fighting to keep a smile off his face. mark’s rambling always springs from loss of logic, and sometimes it's amusing.

 

“whatever! the point is i’m going to be the reason behind all of that because i got jinyoung into this stupid fake boyfriend muddle and i would say that is all your fault because you told wurin i was with ana so i had to make up an excuse, and—you know what, jackson? this whole thing is your fault!” accuses mark, pointing at jackson with a deadly anger.

 

luckily, jackson knows that mark isn’t paying attention to all that he’s thinking and saying right now, so he chooses to slightly divert the topic. “how exactly did the ana date cause you to force him into talking to shinhyeo?”

 

so mark explains. and then jackson asks a few more questions, coaxing bit by bit out of mark. they take a couple detours here and there, but jackson gets all his questions answered. it’s been about two years since their first heart-to-heart, and mark actually never thought there’d be a second.

 

“look,” says jackson, after a long silence. “the best advice i can give you is to just act like nothing’s wrong. i get now why you were mad in the morning, and i won’t do that again”—mark shoots him a look after which he corrects himself—“i’ll  _ try _ to not do that again. so don’t worry. but what you have to do is not let him know you like him. which is pretty simple, because the kid is pretty fucking oblivious. the way he talked about you in the morning made you sound extremely friendzoned. i’m sorry about that, but it’s true.”

 

“he talked about me? what did he say?” inquires mark, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager and then remembering that if he spilled all that emotion in front of jackson, this won’t even make a difference.

 

“i actually asked him a few questions. i was talking about how it was a miracle that you found a friend like him because you weren’t really good at making friends and all that jazz—i swear he looked like he was this close to telling me i sounded like your overprotective mom—and he said he doesn’t get why you don’t have that many friends because you have—what was the word he used?—a  _ vivacious _ personality. he said you got along with him better than people who he’s known for years and years, so…yeah.” jackson shrugs, continuing, “like i said, the best thing to do is to just act like yourself. just sweep those feelings under the carpet before you can set them on table and smash then to pieces. don’t shut yourself down too much, though. i know this is going to take a lot of you, but this boy seems a bit like a blessing, and you aren’t going to let him go like that, are you?”

 

mark shakes his head firmly, eyes and cheeks stained red, and jackson claps him on the shoulder.

 

“that’s my markiepooh,” grins the younger, ruffling mark’s hair proudly. “now remember, getting rid of habits is really hard so i’m not going to ask you to stop bottling up your feelings. i just want you to let them out more often. so whether i’m at work or you’re at work or something, i’m on standby for you. if you suddenly need to talk, you need to call me right away, okay?”

 

“yes, sir!” declares mark, thankfulness washing over him for having the universe bestow him with a jackson wang. where would he be without him? jackson always says mark would be stuck eyes deep in coffee and tears without him, and only today does the older come to confirm that.

 

==  

 

**_—21 FEBRUARY_ **

**_13:04_ **

**markmywords**

**[** _last seen at 12:48 PM_ **]**

**bookpark <**

hyung

**> markmywords**

wassup

 

**bookpark <**

i’m trying to stay calm rn

**> markmywords**

but…?

 

**bookpark <**

but GUESS HWAT

> **markmywords**

HWAT ??

 

**bookpark <**

I WEnt oUT TO LUncH wITH shinhyeo

**> markmywords**

OH M YGOD  (」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣

 

**> markmywords**

SO FAST ?!?!

 

**> markmywords**

damn jinyoung you’re good at this

 

**> markmywords**

don’t you wish you started talking to him earlier?? 

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

**bookpark <**

I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO YOU

**bookpark <**

but i technically didn’t ask him

**bookpark <**

during my lunch break i went to the café right 

down the street

**bookpark <**

and HE WaS THERE

**bookpark <**

anD HE SAW ME

**bookpark <**

and HE asked ME to join HIM

**bookpark <**

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

**> markmywords**

OH MY GAWDDDDDDDD

 

**> markmywords**

you lucky fucker !! (*＾▽＾)／

 

**> markmywords**

what did you talk about ??

 

**bookpark <**

books

**> markmywords**

and…?

 

**bookpark <**

that’s it

**> markmywords**

what about yourselves ?

 

**> markmywords**

likes

 

**> markmywords**

dislikes

 

**> markmywords**

interests

 

**> markmywords**

disinterests

 

**> markmywords**

hobbies

 

**> markmywords**

dishobbies

 

**bookpark <**

dishobbies wtf that's the last thing you say to me

before you get smacked upside the head with a

fucking dictionary

**> markmywords**

yah i’m being serious !

 

**bookpark <**

and thIS IS STILL PROGress ENOUGH FOR ME

**> markmywords**

alright alright alright i was just wondering

 

**bookpark <**

sorry i just feel a little high

**bookpark <**

but i’ll talk to him properly if i meet him again

**> markmywords**

*when you meet him a gain（・∀・）

 

**bookpark <**

ASDFGHJKLMNBVCXZ

**bookpark <**

fingers crossed

**> markmywords**

yup :-)

 

**bookpark <**

ohmygod i still can't believe that happened

**> markmywords**

tbh^

 

**bookpark <**

:P

**bookpark <**

i’ll meet you @ four after i’m done here?

**> markmywords**

aight i’ll be at the dorm

 

**bookpark <**

cool cya

_ read: 1:23 PM _

 

 ==

**_—24 FEBRUARY_ **

**_19:33_ **

“they’re going out?” asks the ravenette female, pointing to the two males walking down the stone path on the other side of the lawn.

 

“apparently,” replies her friend, a brunette. “and don’t point.”

 

“sorry. it’s just weird,” shudders the former. her friend shoots her a look. she rushes to correct herself. “not that they’re two males. i’m talking about the whole situation.”

 

“to be completely honest, it kind of explains a lot,” shrugs the brunette. “he could’ve gotten any girl he wanted, but he didn’t.”

 

“but if they’ve been together for a year, why would his best friend set me up on a date with him?” wonders the ravenette, narrowing her eyes at the two males.

 

“maybe because you asked him to,” reminds the other.

 

“i genuinely thought he was straight! and so did jackson, otherwise he wouldn’t have set me up with him!” spits the ravenette. “and now suddenly he’s saying he’s gay and has a boyfriend? and they’ve been together for a year? i call bullshit.”

 

“why do you even care so much now?” asks the brunette, rolling her eyes. “you didn’t even want to go on that date that much.” catching the expression on the other’s face, she adds, “emphasis on ‘that much’.”

 

“it wasn’t my fault that professor min called me at the last minute, saying that she wanted to talk to me about my prototype!” says the ravenette, her eyes following the two males until she can no longer see them in the half-light.

 

“why does it matter to you? i don’t get it.” the brunette picks idly at her fingernails. “like, i think they’re a cute couple.”

 

“i’m just saying, there’s something weird about the whole arrangement,” sighs the ravenette. “it feels like there’s something off. the day after i’m supposed to go on a date with him, we’re told that he’s had a boyfriend for a fricking year. like, what the hell?”

 

“i don’t think anyone knew about that date except you and jackson,” contemplates the brunette, shrugging. “and him, of course, so everyone else seems to think that it’s legit. it shouldn’t even matter to you. let it go.”

 

“i’m just confused,” laments the ravenette. “i hate being confused.”

 

“i know, but wurin said that mark told him himself, and i choose to believe wurin on this,” says the brunette, nodding once firmly.

 

“you always choose to believe wurin. you’re blinded by the fact that you’re his girlfriend,” remarks the ravenette.

 

“i’m not his girlfriend. he’s my boyfriend. get the difference?” giggles the brunette.

 

“dork.”

 

“nerd.”

 

“and proud,” grins the ravenette. the smile disappears from her face to give a slightly more dangerous expression. “trust me when i say i’m going to figure out what’s wrong with this.”

 

the brunette sighs in exasperation.“whatever you say, ana.”

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah yeah excluding the markson convo everything else seems like filler but it matters, trust me ;)  
> also yes, ana is important,,, you'll find out why later.. wayyy later  
> also i'm currently writing the seventeenth chapter and looking back on the time when this story was so simple haha :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh btw to the people wondering how tf im at chap 17 rn,, i started writing this in april haha ^^ i'm no superwriter :D

**_—26 FEBRUARY_ **

**_22:57_ **

jinyoung wonders if it’ll ever be possible to go back to a life without mark.

 

it’s surprising, how quickly the brunet has quietly, rapidly incorporated himself into jinyoung’s life without even trying. during spring break, jinyoung’s shifts are between ten and four during the day, and mark’s shifts are between ten and six at night, so there’s plenty of time in between for them to hang out. they hang out at the library, where mark helps jinyoung stalk shinhyeo—“it’s not stalking. we’re investigating.”—or at either of their workplaces, but most of the time, they just go to the park and eat the chocolate ice cream that mark has got jinyoung addicted to. 

 

mark loves hanging out at merch n’ more. he loves the feeling of being surrounded by so many fandoms. at any time of day, there are always at least four customers inside the store, which is unlike what was predicted when the store first opened, because no one thought a fandom merchandise store would do well. but then again with a college nearby, the store did remarkably well, becoming twice its size in three years. fandom merchandise make remarkably good gifts, not to mention there’s a huge variety of fandoms and pieces to choose from that are relatively cheap.

 

what’s that? oh, jinyoung just informed me that it’s his job to sound like a commercial, not mine.

 

back to the point. mark has circuited the store so many times that sometimes when customers stop him and ask him questions, he’ll answer with all the experience and knowledge of a long-time employee. jinyoung feels strangely proud.

 

jinyoung visits café 247 in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep, but keeps a respectable distance from mark. (“why’re you avoiding me?” “i’m not avoiding you.” “you never sit more than three inches away from me.” “you’re warm. if i lean on you, i’ll fall asleep.”) he brings his literary work and shows it to mark, who admittedly doesn’t know enough to critique it but knows enough to say that jinyoung has got some  _ wild _ talent.

 

bambam and jinyoung became friends after finding out that they both are fans of the flash tv show. they have a conversation from one to four in the morning about the multiverse and the different possibilities that each universe could hold, and mark gets so bored and he goes and watches videos with junmyeon on the older’s phone.

 

jinyoung doesn’t mind having to stay at college for the holidays now. besides, there most of the seniors stayed behind, since they have masters exams next semester, and are getting extra tuition from the professors, and a substantial number of juniors, the ones who live in and around seoul, have also stayed behind, so he’s good, knowing that he’s not the only one who didn’t go home.

 

what’s annoying is the way the seniors approach jinyoung and ask, “are you  _ really _ mark tuan’s boyfriend?” and he has to say yes. personally, he doesn’t mind saying that, but it scares him a little bit. mark has a very fall-in-love-worthy face that people notice, and that means jinyoung has to deal with person after person telling him he’s lucky to have him. that’s based on how they’ve judged his face. not that there’s anything wrong with his personality. his personality is very fall-in-love-worthy actually. it makes jinyoung wonder sometimes, but then he just pushes the thought away.

 

one things that’s annoying him is that suddenly he feels popular, because he has a boyfriend. nobody cared about his existence before, and he liked to keep it that way. but because his supposed boyfriend is  _ mark tuan, jackson wang’s strong, silent, highly attractive buddy _ , suddenly everyone knows who he is. well, not everyone. no one in his year seems to have noticed yet, and jinyoung wonders how he’s been blessed with such a miracle.

 

then again, there are the people who shoot him weird looks when they pass him, who look at him like he’s something they had to scrape off their shoes, who whisper about him when they think he can’t hear him. they can’t bully him outright, beat him up or actually do anything outright against him, because they supposedly live in a civilized society, study in a good college, and that means that you have to learn to accept people. and also, no one wants to cross jackson wang, because he has buddies everywhere, and he’ll take it  _ really _ seriously if someone tries to bully his best friend’s boyfriend. jinyoung knows that just because it looks like people accept him to his face doesn’t mean that they actually do, but he doesn’t care about these people. he has better things to do. that statement was meant in every way it can be taken. (kidding. obviously.)

 

a senior actually came up to him yesterday, introduced himself and had a brief conversation with him, at least as brief as jinyoung allowed it to be. the senior ended the conversation with, “oh my god, it’s been so interesting to meet a gay person!” making jinyoung feel like he was a successful experiment or a fascinating exhibit. jinyoung had been on the verge of replying with, “oh, that must be why it has been so uninteresting to meet you.”

 

it’s three days until the end of spring break, and it’s about eleven o’clock jinyoung skips in—yes, literally skips in, because fuck dignity at this time of the night, right? he freezes when he sees a certain other ravenet behind the counter. “yugyeom?”

 

“jinyoung hyung?” asks yugyeom, doing a double take.

 

“hi! you work here?” smiles jinyoung.

 

“yeah, i have been for the last few months.”

 

“how come i’ve never seen you before then?”

 

“i worked the day shift. shifted to the later shift today. my manager always made me the cashier, and early morning customer are basically zombie bullies, so…” yugyeom’s voice trails off into nothingness when he thinks he’s said too much, and he wears a little embarrassed smile. just as jinyoung remembers him.

 

bambam walks up behind yugyeom. “hey, jinyoung hyung!” he looks between the two ravenets, catching a whiff of  _ i just interrupted a conversation _ . “you two know each other?”

 

“yeah, we went to same high school,” explains jinyoung. “well, i went and he goes.”

 

“but i go to the same high school,” says bambam confusedly.

 

“you joined the year this nemesis of mine left,” smirks yugyeom, head flicking in jinyoung’s direction. the oldest of the three simply lets out a little laugh at this.

 

“i’m sorry, i’m missing something here, aren’t i?” frowns kunpimook.

 

“we have quite the history,” remarks yugyeom, nodding intriguingly.

 

jinyoung takes it upon himself to explain. “so i was in my senior year of high school when this squirt”—yugyeom, standing three inches taller than the one speaking, laughs at that—“who was a freshman joined the dance team. now, the leader of the team had left school the previous year, and the rest of the students decided to hold a little competition to see who’d become the next leader.”

 

“let me guess. he walked in and beat you?” asks bambam, addressing jinyoung, glancing at yugyeom and rolling his eyes like he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

 

“not before a series of unfortunate events,” replies jinyoung enigmatically. “before and after.”

 

“let’s just say that hyung here is no angel,” adds yugyeom, exchanging a significant look with jinyoung.

 

“and you got over it?” confirms bambam.

 

“well, the fact that jinyoung hyung is sentimental as fuck was the reason he isn’t walking out right now,” elucidates yugyeom, grinning cheekily at the mentioned.

 

“i didn’t know you swore now, gyeomie. not so innocent now, are you?” jinyoung turns to bambam, shrugging indifferently. “i forgave him right before i left school.”

 

“he broke down and cried in my arms about how i made his senior year memorable,” snickers yugyeom.

 

“yah, that is  _ not _ how it happened!” exclaims the oldest, widening his eyes and raising his arm as though threatening to hit the other ravenet.

 

“for the record, i am very used to that gesture,” says yugyeom emotionlessly to bambam, who laughs.

 

“shouldn’t you be taking my order?” inquires jinyoung, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head in fake condescension.

 

“i’m sorry,” grins yugyeom. “welcome to café 247. may i take your order?”

 

“no thanks, i came to see a friend,” replies jinyoung, with a taunting smirk, before grinning back.

 

“by the way,” pipes up bambam. “mark hyung’s in the back. i’ll tell him you’re here.”

 

“no, that’s all right,” says jinyoung, waving a hand. “i’ll just wait, thanks.”

 

“how come you’re only polite to him and not me?” asks yugyeom, offended.

 

“probably because he didn’t break into my locker and fill it with pink heart-shaped sticky notes with the class bully’s name on it, you loser.”

 

“you’re the loser!”

 

“no, you are!

 

“no, you!”

 

“no,  _ you _ !”

 

“i’ll let you win this time!”

 

“why, you brat—”

 

 ==

**_—26 FEBRUARY_ **

**_23:09_ **

“hey, jinyoungie,” says mark, his eyes concentrated on the blender, the younger leaning over the counter behind which he’s working. mark hasn’t seen jinyoung all day—he was first catching up on sleep, then went to fashion passion to keep jackson company since jackson’s boss was taking a day off. “be with you in a second.” the younger nods and walks back to the cash register. once the brunet’s satisfies with the consistency of the liquid, he pours it into a large glass, decorates it with all the required accessories and hands it to the respective customer with a smile and a “have a nice day”.

 

“ma-ark!” yells bambam, his voice echoing around the nearly empty café. “two iced hazelnut lattes with extra syrup and whipped cream!”

 

“on it!” yells back the brunet, knowing exactly who ordered that. he hums in appreciation, keeping track in his head that since jinyoung bought him this drink, they’re square for now.

 

he makes the drinks quickly, walking to jinyoung’s table holding one in each hand. he doesn’t know when exactly that particular table in the corner became  _ jinyoung’s _ table, but it’s too late to change the name in his head now.

 

“here,” he says, setting the drink down in front of the ravenet and taking the seat next to him. “what’s up? you look like you’ve been possessed by chez.”

 

“chez?” repeats jinyoung, frowning in confusion while blowing on his frappuccino in an almost delicate manner. he then realizes that it’s a cold drink and smacks his forehead in embarrassment as mark watches amusedly.

 

“the cheshire cat. bam’s nickname for him,” explains mark quickly, holding his own glass in his hands before he sets it back down on the table, the cold a bit much to handle. “are you going to tell me what’s up?”

 

jinyoung drums his fingers on the tabletop, the suppressed exhilaration all the more obvious by the way he leans forward and has this tight smile on his face. “so i ran into shinhyeo again today.”

 

“that’s like the fourth time this week. that’s rather much for a coincidence,” comments the brunet, pulling at his fingers under the table before freezing and placing them back on the table. jinyoung’s already detected that that is a nervous habit of mark’s, so he tries to hide it as much as possible.

 

“i know. that’s what i thought too. anyway,” says jinyoung, hand falling easily, almost naturally, on top of mark’s. “he. asked. me. to. meet. up. with. him. for. coffee. tomorrow. morning.”

 

“get out!” exclaims mark, barely moving except for the corners of his mouth that he forces to turn upward. the more he convinces himself that he’s okay with the whole situation, the worse he feels. he’s gotten used to just chanting in his head that all he’d like is jinyoung in his life, and if he has to sacrifice his feelings being heard for that, that’s fine. that’s  _ fine _ .

 

“no, seriously!” squeals jinyoung, as loud as he can without letting anyone but mark hear. he squeezes the older’s hand and mark feels the squeeze in his stomach.

 

“that’s so great!” says the brunet, hoping the emotion in his voice is enough.

 

“i know!” jinyoung puts his glass of cold coffee down. the whipped cream on mark’s is melting in front of him, as the glass sits untouched. “the thing is—oh, shit, sorry!” halfway through an dramatic hand gesture, jinyoung smacks mark in the face due to their close proximity, making the older hold his cheek in an equally dramatic way. it doesn’t really hurt that much. mark just needs a bit of attention because he’s a bitter, needy brat. or so he feels. no regret is felt, though.

 

jinyoung apologizes about seven times over, and mark isn’t willing to let it go that easily. “how is sorry going to fix the ache in my face?” he challenges, swatting jinyoung’s hands away as the younger tries to check for damage.

 

jinyoung pulls mark’s hands away from his face, and the older pouts, jutting out his bottom lip, and faces away from him. before mark can register that jinyoung’s leaning in a little too close, the younger’s lips have been pressed against his cheek, then drawn back and curled into a smile. his lips are slightly chapped, but still soft and chill because of the coffee he’s been sipping. mark feels he would’ve been breathing better if jinyoung has just punched him in the solar plexus.

 

“is  _ that  _ better?” jinyoung sounds smug.

mark turns to jinyoung, eyes wide and shocked, only to meet embarrassed ones with the slightest bit of self-satisfaction. the younger’s smile turns a bit guilty. “sorry, didn’t mean to make the situation awkward. protective instincts, y’know. sorry.” 

 

mark remembers that he has to respond, and not gape dumbly, so he shakes his head. “it’s not like people are going to look at us weird because of that, right?” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but the butterflies flying between his stomach and throat make that very hard. the pain in his cheek feels like basically nothing now. he’d just gotten used to this level of extravagant affection, and trust jinyoung to pull this. “i mean, we are fake boyfriends.” 

 

a sentence that has been used so many times over in the last few days. it’s become a joke, almost. at least, mark thinks that’s what it is to jinyoung, since he’s not quite there yet, though he does try to treat it like that. it’s also an excuse. an excuse for them to take naps together when they both are too sleep deprived to hang out at the park. an excuse to hold hands for no reason. an excuse for them to do things for each other. it’s basically to cover up for the fact that they don’t treat each other like normal best friends do.

 

mark’s phone has jinyoung’s number literally saved as ‘fake boyfriend’, because that’s as inconspicuous as he can make it.

 

there’s an awkward five-second staring-contest-slash-silence before mark clears his throat, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. “right, about shinhyeo.” he hates the topic change, but it’s the first thing that comes to his mind, because that’s what distracting him from the possibility that jinyoung could actually like him.

 

jinyoung blinks like he’s pulling himself back to earth. “um, yeah. the thing is, i think there’s the slightest chance that he might actually like me back.”

 

“is he gay?” questions mark.

 

“yeah. well, gay or bi. probably pan. he has mentioned several times that personality is all that matters to him—he’s been very ambiguous about gender. has never had a girlfriend. we were talking the other day about this book where the main character wasn’t paired with this character who was sweet, funny and nice, and also liked her, because she was of the same gender. we were talking about how they would’ve had a better love story if the author had decided to put them together,” muses the younger.

 

“have you talked about anything other than books?” asks mark, raising his eyebrows. he’s been silently skeptical of the conversations jinyoung and shinhyeo have been having, because the fact remains they technically barely know anything about each other.

 

“no, it’s been purely intellectual,” says the younger quietly.

 

“so all he knows is park jinyoung, literature whiz?” there’s the slightest tone of sarcasm to his words, and mark thinks that for once, jinyoung catches on. that’s not necessarily a good thing. 

 

jinyoung turns the slightest shade of pink. “i’m not a literature whiz.”

 

“that wasn’t the question.” the sarcasm hadn’t been in the  _ literature whiz  _ part, but the  _ all he knows  _ part.

 

“yes, okay?” mark can sense jinyoung’s defenses going up, and maybe he should have changed the topic, but no, because mark is as stupid as jinyoung is oblivious.

 

“but you still thinks he likes you knowing only that side?”

 

“what about that side of me isn’t likeable?” questions jinyoung, looking a touch offended.

 

“i’m just saying,” backtracks mark quickly. the damage has already been done, though. “that there’s so much more of you to like.”

 

“i think if he likes that side of me, i can deal,” says jinyoung defensively, a frown drawn across his face. “that’s enough, i think. he can get to know me better later, yeah?”

 

“whoa, calm down.” mark’s suddenly at a loss. he doesn’t know what to do. a red sign with the words  _ back down now _ is flashing in his mind in neon lights. but of course, he doesn’t. “what about him? what if you find out that the other sides of him aren’t your type, what’ll you do then?”

 

“i think i know him enough,  _ hyung _ .” the emphasis on the last word clearly conveys that jinyoung thinks he knows what to do with his life, despite the fact that mark is older. that in itself sets mark off a little more.

 

“yeah? what’s his favorite color?”

 

“hyung, can you stop?” jinyoung puts his palm to his forehead and scrunches his eyes up like he’s in pain and he really doesn’t want to deal with this conversation.

 

“what? i’m just looking out for you.” mark’s tone has evened out into plain honesty, on the verge of condescension.

 

“is it that hard to be happy for me?” glowers the younger.

 

“it’s not like that,” says mark, panic suddenly beginning to kick in.  _ oh shit.  _ “it’s just that…”

 

“just that what?” argues jinyoung. it’s almost like he’s daring mark to finish the sentence. only the older very obviously can’t, because it would be like juggling with broken glass. when mark stays silent, jinyoung picks up his satchel. “i think i need to go home now.”

 

“jinyoungie…” begins mark helplessly. but he just leaves. mark never finishes his latte, dumping it down the drain with a burning anger. he’s not wrong, he knows that. but he also knows that the way he put that across was not right. but what could he do? it’s not like he has a poetic way of phrasing everything, he thinks bitterly as he wipes down tables at the end of the night.

 

the next morning, after mark gets back to his dorm, he checks eezeechat again, like he’s obsessively been doing for the past six hours, because he can't work up the nerve to text the first message himself.

 

 _you have_ **0** _new messages!_

 ==

**_—27 FEBRUARY_ **

**_10:52_ **

jinyoung was always a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kind of person.

 

today, he wishes he wasn’t.

 

“the reason i invited you here, jinyoung, was because i needed to tell you something.” shinhyeo sits across from him, both of them cradling cappuccinos in their hands. the redhead smiles uncertainly, and jinyoung’s heart melts a little. shinhyeo ordered the coffees before he got here. they aren’t jinyoung’s favorite, but it doesn’t really matter.

 

“really? me too.” he thinks he knows. he knows what shinhyeo is going to say. he wants to say it first though. he’s always wanted to say it.

 

“i think it might do you better to let me go first.” jinyoung is picking up on a note of caution to the words, but he dismisses it as merely nerves. there’s a small voice in his brain that tells him he’s wrong, that he’s going to be grossly disappointed, but he’s too much of a fool in love to listen to it.

 

“actually, could i?” he asks, with a bit of confidence. he’s sure. he’s sure that he’s deluding himself into being sure, but he has a chance. he just doesn’t know that sometimes, you have to let chances go.

 

shinhyeo frowns. “i don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

 

“and why is that?” jinyoung’s heart falls a bit. he really does want to tell him.

 

“just hear me out,” says shinhyeo, the patience in his voice calming jinyoung. there’s still that undertone of caution, and the voice is shouting,  _ you’re a fool, a fool, a fool,  _ but jinyoung’s drowning it out because he doesn’t want to admit to the truth behind it.

 

“…all right,” he consents quietly.

 

shinhyeo takes a deep breath. jinyoung’s heart clenches in his chest. he’s thought about this moment so many times over, directed it and written it until in his head, it was perfect.  _ if only things could go that way _ …

 

“i’m really flattered, but you’re not my type.”

 

reality is a bitch-ass motherfucker.

 

“what are you talking about?” there’s a sudden fakeness to jinyoung’s smile that becomes more pronounced, because  _ please, this cannot be happening. _ this possibility is what has kept him up for nights, wondering and worrying about what he would do if he found himself in this situation, before dismissing it from his mind when the pain in his chest got too much to bear. sometimes, channelling all the optimism you have and hoping for the best while ignoring negative possibilities burns you. big time.

 

“i’m talking about how i know you like me? it’s painfully obvious.” shinhyeo sounds so dreadfully bored by the entire situation, like he could be doing so much more if he wasn’t stuck in this shitty-ass café drinking coffee with a mere admirer of his. it stings jinyoung.

 

“oh. that.” jinyoung gapes like a fish out of water, like he can’t believe the redhead just said that.

 

“yeah. i’m really sorry, jinyoung.” again, the bored tone. the tone that makes it seem like he doesn’t care about anything. least of all about jinyoung’s feelings.

 

“i really doubt you are.” the ravenet’s lips are set in a thin line. he can’t believe the level of audacity, the lack of basic human respect in the flippant way he’s being addressed.

 

“no, i am. it’s just…i can’t see myself being with someone like you.”  _ what is that supposed to mean?  _ this hits jinyoung in a part where it really hurts, considering all the times he’d bring his own confidence down by thinking he’d never be good enough to date won shinhyeo. and it hurt to see all his worst suspicions confirmed to his face.

 

“someone like  _ me _ ? what is it, like a gender thing?”  _ please, let it just be a gender thing. we’ll just move on like nothing happened. _

 

“no, more like a personality thing.” that hurts. a lot. jinyoung didn’t think that the pain was capable of stinging a little more, but it proved him and his heart wrong. he can’t believe what just happened.

 

“well, that was very poetic.” the ravenet’s voice is tight and constricted, and there are tears pricking the backs of his eyes already. he needs to get out of there.  _ now _ . he gets up and picks up his ever-present satchel.  

 

“jinyoung, you’re a great person. i’m just not sure if you’re the right person for me.” the voice in his head is screaming at him, calling shinhyeo a liar, calling jinyoung an idiot, because  _ how did jinyoung ever, ever think shinhyeo could possibly like him back? how? _

 

“i think it’s the other way around, actually.” he’s lying. his confidence has taken the beating of its life. he needs to put on a brave front. at least until he gets out of there. he has too much self-pride to dissolve into tears right in front of the person who caused them, and considering how awful shinhyeo’s opinion of him is already, jinyoung doesn’t want to make it worse.

 

“i’m sorry.” in that moment, jinyoung hates those words. they sound so empty, so monotonic, so devoid of emotion or meaning. they sound like an excuse for shinhyeo being such a dick. an excuse with zero justification.

 

“don’t say things you don’t mean. i hope the one you finally end up with instigates you to reminisce everyday so as to what could have been.” satisfied with his exit line, he abandons his cappuccino and storms out of the café, taking the remains of his dignity with him.

 

 ==

**_—27 FEBRUARY_ **

**_6:55_ **

mark can’t sleep. he lies in bed, wondering if he’s going to be the reason that jinyoung tells shinhyeo about his feelings. wondering if he’s driven jinyoung off the silent edge. wondering if shinhyeo will say yes. wondering if he’ll be the reason he’s demoted from ‘fake boyfriend’ to ‘just a friend’. wondering if he’ll even fill the position of ‘just a friend’ anymore. he slips in and out of consciousness, not sure whether he’s awake or asleep. there are times when his thoughts are too lucid to be dreams, and times when his thoughts are too vague to be conscious thoughts.

 

he knows he’s properly awake when he can register jackson getting up from his own mattress across the room. he can hear the other brunet shifting around for his things. then he hears the bathroom door slam. he lies still, wondering if he should wake up now or not. and then wondering why he isn’t sick of wondering yet.

 

jackson reenters the room, hair wet and falling all over his face, a towel draped over his shoulder. he looks over at mark, who’s staring unblinkingly, and just waits for him to start talking. he doesn't have to wait very long.  


 

“what do i do?” groans mark, as he finishes explaining his predicament to jackson. he tosses around in his covers like he’s trying to get into a comfortable enough position to fall asleep, even though it’s been about half an hour since he’s woken up.

 

jackson runs around getting ready for work, trying to find his tie. “apologize, maybe?”

 

“that’s a bad idea. i didn’t really do anything wrong…?” he didn’t. he won’t apologize.

 

“maybe help me find my tie and i’ll help you,” offers jackson, messing up the covers of his own bed with a yell of exasperation, struggling to find the critical piece of formal clothing. “yah, i’m so late!”

 

“it’s poking out from under your laptop,” points out the older sleepily, specifying the direction to look in with his toe. jackson always seems to miss what’s right under his nose.

 

with another yell, this time ecstatic, jackson retrieves the tie, then turns to mark, looping the strip of cloth around his neck. “just apologize. it works every time.” he shoots finger guns in mark’s direction with a wink.

 

“jackson!” whines mark, but the other picks up the car keys, saying, “sorry, late for work. gotta blast!”

 

mark shakes his fist uselessly at the door slamming shut. he’s about to fall asleep again and that’s when his phone buzzes.

 

**1** _ new message from  _ **bookpark** !

mark jumps at the noise and stretches his arms out, but he can’t reach his phone that’s lying on the bedside table. another buzz.

 

**2** _ new messages from  _ **bookpark** !

finally, walking on his hands due to a severe case of i-will-not-lift-my-entire-body-off-this-bed-thank-you-very-much, he grapples the top of the bedside table blindly, letting out a satisfied noise when his hand closes around his phone, which buzzes once more.

 

**3** _ new messages from  _ **bookpark** !

mark frowns and holds the phone up to his face, too lazy to reach for his glasses and wondering if he should open the messages or not. that inconsiderate excuse of a human being refused to text him the entirety of last night. why now? mark checks his watch. 11:12 a.m. it must be his break time. meaning he’s probably met up with shinhyeo. what, is he texting to tell him how good his little date was—

 

**> bookpark**

i’m sorry i should’ve listened to you

 

**> bookpark**

can you come over i’m taking the rest of the day off 

(i called in sick)

 

**> bookpark**

and bring tissues please i’m out of them

==

**_—27 FEBRUARY_ **

**_11:32_ **

“he said  _ i _ wasn’t  _ his _ type, jaebum hyung!” sobs jinyoung into the phone, splayed out on the couch. he’s been brokenly sobbing to the older for the last ten minutes, telling him in garbled tones about what happened. he knew jaebum wouldn’t yell at him, but he can sense a very strong vibe of  _ i told you so  _ embedded in the way he's responded to. jinyoung can’t even argue. “he didn’t even know me enough to say that, hyung!” his voice cracks on the last syllable, for the sentence itself is just a reminder of how stupid, how pathetic he was about the entire thing.

 

_ what did you even expect. _

_ really, what did you expect? _

_ did you expect this? _

_ maybe. a bit. slightly. the tiniest iota. _

 

“i’m going to beat him up when i get back,” growls jaebum from the other end. 

 

“don’t,” groans jinyoung, turning over. the image of jaebum standing over a bloodied and bruised shinhyeo actually gives him a jolt of vindictive pleasure, so he adds grudgingly, “okay, maybe a little.”

 

“can you hang in there for some time? i’ll be back this evening,” assures jaebum, voice uncharacteristically gentle. god, jinyoung needs a hug from jaebum right about now.

 

“thank god,” sighs the ravenet, sniffling. the doorbell rings, reminding jinyoung of his invited company. “yeah, i think i can hang in there.”

 

 ==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally i get to break his heart i thought id never get here thank god >:D i feel like i need to explain and justify certain parts of this chapter but i'll refrain from doing that bt if you wanna ask me about something you can go ahead i literally have explanations for everything that goes on in this chapter.
> 
> i hope everyone had an amazing christmas and is taking a well deserved break right now~! god i can't believe it's gonna be 2018 and fUCK i just realized i've been with got7 for a whole year i can't believe it it feels like i've been here for so long :') ahgases are such beautiful people im so glad i started stanning these 7 dorks <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is for div, who has been my shoulder to cry on for the longest time, and is the best emotional support anyone could ever ask for.

**_—27 FEBRUARY_ **

**_11:31_ **

mark checks the bag one more time. tissues? check. ice cream? check. pen drive with movies? check. it registers that he’s about to go be the shoulder to cry on for a boy who he is whipped for. and to think jackson calls him boring so often. someone really should make a movie of his life. actually, his life is basically the stereotypical plot of chick-flick anyway.

 

he hesitates while reaching to ring the doorbell. he hasn’t exactly been to jinyoung’s apartment before, and he always has this huge fear of ringing the wrong doorbell, because of something that happened to him back in high school, when he rang the doorbell of someone who also had a kid with the same name as the person that mark was originally going to meet. it was uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

 

he checks the number on the door with the number in the text about five times over, before ringing the doorbell tentatively. 

 

“come in, it’s open!” comes a yell from inside. it’s hoarse, it’s raspy and not really at its full potential, but mark can tell that’s jinyoung. he twists the doorknob to let himself in, finding the younger stretched out on the sofa, phone hugged to his chest and staring up at him with watery eyes and multiple tear tracks down his flushed face. he’s in that stupid navy blue hoodie again and would look the epitome of adorable if he didn’t look the epitome of miserable.

 

“you don’t say ‘come in, it’s open’ when you don’t know who it is,” reprimands mark, without any heart to the admonishment. 

 

“i always know when someone is coming to my house, and no one’s coming today but you,” says the ravenet softly, sniffling slightly.

 

mark is about to tell the younger that a serial killer most definitely would not announce before they were coming, but he knows jinyoung doesn’t have the energy to defend himself, so he decides to let him off, instead settling himself on the arm of the sofa. “i stopped by at the convenience store before coming here. i got your tissues. and i got ice cream and movies.”

 

“you get movies at the convenience store?” enquires jinyoung, curling up a little more so mark can slide into the one of the seats of the three-seater. the older shoots him a look, noticing which the ravenet rolls his eyes and says, “i’m kidding. duh.”

 

“i thought we could have a nice, authentic, as-described-in-books post-break-up-slash-rejection feel-better celebration,” announces mark, barely reacting when jinyoung decides to place his head on his lap.

 

“yeah, i fucking need that,” whispers jinyoung, a tear slipping out from between his eyelids.

 

mark wipes the tear away, his heart wanting to break at the sight of this unhappy jinyoung. he was one to always smile, and he liked watching people smile. truth be told, he had a bit of an obsession with smiles, because when you're best friends with happy virus jackson wang, his beliefs tend to rub off on you. and obsessions aside, jinyoung’s smiles are beautiful. anyone would agree to that statement. because his smiles are truly beautiful. the full smiles that made his eyes crinkle up and disappear, the ones he always tries to hide. the little smiles that bring out a little innocent (the innocence hides the evil) twinkle in his eyes and a chubbiness to his cheeks.

 

“don’t worry, we’re going to make this all better, okay?” promises mark, cupping jinyoung’s face with his hands, squishing the younger’s cheeks together. it feels oddly satisfying. “we’re going to have a pity fest and drown ourselves in ice cream and watch movies till our eyes bleed. okay, jinyoungie? we’re going to make this all okay again.”

 

“i know i’ll be okay,” says jinyoung slowly, after a long silence, tears slipping silently down his face. “i just wish i hadn’t gotten myself into a fucking situation from where i had to progress to feeling ‘okay’, you know?” he laughs humorlessly, shifting his gaze away.

 

“i get it,” says mark, running the pad of his thumb over jinyoung’s cheekbone gently, a method of comfort his older sister had often used on him. it had a hundred percent success rate, so mark tends to trust it. “but not everything in life can go the way you want it to.”

 

“i would say that was very deep if every other fucking person in the world didn’t say it,” groans jinyoung, turning over so his cheek is squished against mark’s knee.

 

“sorry,” says mark sheepishly. he’s never been good at the whole comfort thing. he’s always been the comfortee, not the comforter. jackson never has any problems that mark has to help him deal with—mark admires the quality of the younger that allows him to take next to nothing to heart. the last time mark legitimately comforted someone was back in middle school, if he remembers correctly.

 

“don’t say that fucking word,” growls jinyoung, pulling at his black hair roughly in anger and frustration.

 

“okay, okay!” mark looks slightly alarmed at the reaction. he pulls jinyoung’s hand away, patting the younger softly on the head. “you say the word ‘fucking’ a lot when you’re mad,” he observes, trying feebly to change the subject.

 

“so i’ve been told. the word ‘fucking’ is remarkable. it can fucking be fucking used fucking anywhere in a fucking sentence and it fucking still fucking will fucking make fucking sense.” mark shrugs, and jinyoung sits up, glaring. “i may say ‘fucking’ a lot, but other people say ‘sorry’ a lot. why do people even fucking say sorry? it’s so overused that it has no meaning anymore. it’s a formality. a regulated phrase. a custom. a ritual.” he punctuates each synonym by slamming his fist forcefully against his other palm, until mark pulls his hands away, holding them a couple feet away from each other.

 

“don’t do that,” says mark softly, but firmly. “you’re hurt and angry, i get it. but you have a whole bunch of words you can express yourself with. don’t hurt yourself physically more that you’re already hurt emotionally.” jinyoung interlocks his fingers with mark’s, and the older takes it as a gesture of silent agreement, giving the ravenet a small nod. “fine, if you don’t like sorry, why don’t we come up with another word?”

 

“okay, as a substitute?” asks jinyoung, looking like he'd be open to that suggestion. “an alternative? a replacement? a locum?”

 

“yes, so in case i need to apologize to you, or you need to apologize to me, then we’ll have a word that we can use without making it sound like a ritual-custom-formality-whatever-you-said,” suggests the brunet, pulling one of his hands away from jinyoung’s so he can put his arm around the ravenet properly.

 

“like, blueberries?” puts forward the younger, leaning his head against the couch cushions. mark is silent for a second, and jinyoung half-shrugs. “it just came to mind.”

 

“blueberries, it is,” says mark obligingly. there’s a small silence as he phrases his next few words in his head. “now, why don’t you tell me what happened? fully. if you want to talk about it.”

 

“the short version—he’s an inconsiderate asshole who doesn’t give a damn about another person’s feelings. the long version—i was about to tell him i liked him when he said i wasn’t his type. he said it was painfully obvious that i liked him.  _ painfully _ obvious, the exact words he used. what was painful for him? i really do wonder.” jinyoung’s eyes start filling up with tears again, and he wipes them away furiously. mark reaches into his bag and pulls out the tissues, handing them to the younger and nodding sympathetically. “and he said that  _ i  _ wasn’t the right person for  _ him _ , and that  _ he _ couldn’t see himself being with someone like  _ me _ . what the hell does he mean, someone like  _ me _ ?!”

 

“probably someone who’s too good for him,” remarks mark fiercely, and jinyoung lets out a watery giggle. “no, i’m serious.”

 

“he said it was a personality thing,” says jinyoung, the momentary smile slipping from his face.

 

“i’m sorry, what?” mark raises his eyebrows, and the ravenet elaborates, “he said it was a personality thing, not a…gender thing.” a fresh wave of tears makes its appearance and jinyoung blows his nose mournfully.

 

mark scowls, mouth dropping open in shock that someone actually dared say something as low as that.  _ how dare he _ . “that bastard.” unfortunately, he can't make promises to beat shinhyeo up, can't say that he'll make sure shinhyeo pays for that, because technically, he's helpless, and he can't make false promises either. but he goes jinyoung knows that if he could, he would.

 

jinyoung purses his lips together, nodding while staring at the floor. he looks so dejected and so mark wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer so the ravenet can rest his head on his shoulder. the older pulls the hood off so he can run his fingers through jinyoung’s hair comfortingly, while the younger stares blankly into the distance, eyes fluttering just the slightest amount every time mark cards his fingers through his hair.

 

honestly, mark thought when— _ if _ —this day ever came, when shinhyeo said no to jinyoung, he'd feel guilty for taking pleasure in the fact that he had a chance now. there's no bit of guilt in him now, because he takes no pleasure in this situation. he just can't take any pleasure in a situation if someone else is feeling miserable. “you deserve so much better than that piece of shit.”

 

“that excuse of a human being,” seconds jinyoung spitefully. 

 

“that stain on the tablecloth of humanity,” follows up mark.

 

“that smooth-talking character who always turns out to be the villain,” adds the ravenet, the beginnings of a smile taking hold of his features.

 

“that guy who always wears his underwear in the shower.”

 

“what?!” chokes jinyoung, a disbelieving laugh breaking out of him.

 

“it was the first thing that came to mind,” says mark awkwardly, but jinyoung is wheezing out little laughs at the ridiculousness of the insult, so he can’t help but smile as well. they go on to have an insult relay, with each insult becoming more ridiculous than the last. when they end up as ‘that idiot who can’t guess which way the elevator is going in two guesses’, they decide to quit for their own sanity.

 

“maybe i’ll just not wait for ‘better’,” sighs jinyoung, snuggling into mark’s side with the smallest of smiles on his face. “maybe i’ll just fake-date you for the rest of my life. even that’s better.”

 

“what do you mean,  _ even  _ that?” questions mark, feigning being offended, though in reality he wants to ask why the word  _ fake _ has to be there. “fake-dating me is the best you can do!”

 

“meh,” shrugs jinyoung. “i’d do better if i dated pizza.” 

 

“you’re leaving me for pizza?”

“yes, actually. thanks for the idea,” grins jinyoung.

 

“you can’t leave me for pizza if i leave you for pizza first,” says the older challengingly.

 

“you can’t leave me for pizza.  _ i’m _ leaving  _ you _ for pizza!” there’s a couple seconds of silence as they register exactly what they’re talking about. jinyoung’s eyes are still red but are barely seen through his smile. “you wanna order pizza?”

 

“yeah, and after that we can—oh, shit, i forgot to put the ice cream in the fridge!” panics mark suddenly, pushing jinyoung off him and picking up the bag near his feet. the younger points him towards the small kitchen, and he places the ice cream where it should be. he picks up his phone, making his way back to the couch. “what’s the number of the nearest pizza place?”

 

in an hour, after they’ve eaten their way through one large pizza, they lie on the couch, wondering what to do next.

 

“do you wanna watch a movie?” suggests mark.

 

jinyoung shrugs indifferently. “no rom-coms, please.”

 

mark looks scandalized. “look, just because a guy rejects you doesn’t mean you give up on your favorite genre of movies.” jinyoung looks downcast, his face crumpling all over again now that the topic raised its ugly head again. mark feels like he’s constantly struggling for words. he should ask jackson for lessons on how to comfort people. he’s just so out of it. “you have to take this with the attitude of ‘so what, what next?’ and move on. maybe distract yourself. like do something that you want to do. learn an instrument or something, i don’t know.”

 

“instrument? no, thank you. what i want to do next is save up enough to buy that hogwarts pin,” pouts jinyoung, eyes glassing over with a pinch of longing.

 

“ah, the limited edition one?” asks the brunet, remembering the younger’s breathless rave about that from a couple days ago.

 

“yeah, only i can’t. it’s way too expensive,” sighs the younger, picking at his fingernails.

“the price isn’t that much. don’t they pretty much pay you a pretty decent amount at merch n’ more?” enquires the older. “like, i get by just fine on a night shift salary.”

 

“yeah, but i have to cover rent, college expenses and donate some, right?” jinyoung’s voice fades for a few seconds.

mark’s not sure he heard that right. “donate some?”

 

“yeah. jaebum and i donate ten percent of what we earn to this orphanage. it’s a habit,” says jinyoung casually, like it’s not a big deal. “i mean, if you have some, give some, am i right? besides, j. k. rowling’s our inspiration. you know she lost her billionaire status because she donated so much?” 

 

“wow.” mark is impressed. donation had been part of his future plans, but that was after he’d got himself a secure job and made more than what he needed. but to be contributing at this age, and to say nothing about it, to not wear it as a badge of entitlement to good karma, is heavily remarkable. mark can just add  _ the fact that he has a good heart  _ at the end of the seventeen-page list in his head of  _ reasons to like park jinyoung _ .

 

there’s a huge silence after this during which mark is still marveling at what jinyoung’s just revealed, until the younger finally clears his throat. “what movie do you want to watch?”

 

“i don’t know, let’s look through the list, shall we?” suggests mark, getting up and stretching, his muscles stiff after being slumped in the same position for over half an hour. he finds the pen drive and jinyoung brings his laptop. they lie side by side on the couch, the laptop balanced precariously on the arm of the narrow couch. it’s really cramped, and jinyoung keeps an arm around mark to make sure that the older doesn’t fall off the sofa.

 

they switch from movie to movie, leaving the movie whenever it gets too romantic or happy (even though mark finds jinyoung’s snarky comments directed towards the leads more than slightly amusing) and eating their way slowly but steadily through a two-liter tub of ice cream, shifting on the couch in the little space that they have until mark is basically engulfed by jinyoung—with his legs entangled with jinyoung’s, his shoulder pressed up against jinyoung’s chest and his head resting on jinyoung’s shoulder.

 

“i actually think i’m feeling a little better now,” says the younger in a small voice, halfway through the d.u.f.f., the fifth movie they switched to. he looks at mark, a tiny smile on the face elicited by the huge relieved grin on the brunet’s face. “you’re the best, hyung.”

 

mark pulls his lips into a little abashed smile, not knowing how to formulate an answer for that.

 

it’s about three-fourth into the movie when mark gets why jinyoung always kept a bit of distance when he was sleepy because he didn’t want to lean on the brunet and fall asleep, because leaning against the younger, he can’t help but feel his eyes begin to close.

 

he’s out like a light before jinyoung can suggest switching movies for a sixth time.

 ==

 

**_—27 FEBRUARY_ **

**_18:13_ **

jaebum clicks the red end call button once more, wondering why the hell jinyoung isn’t picking up. all kinds of horrible scenarios fill his head as his protective senses kick in, and he almost bumps into three people, trying to leave the train station in a rush.

 

he runs to the nearest m.r.t. station, choosing the quickest route home, not caring about lugging a huge suitcase behind him.

 

he makes it back in record time and fumbles with the key as he inserts it into the lock. he opens the door, expecting to see something horrifying.

 

only he doesn’t.

 

instead, he’s greeted by the sight of his best friend sound asleep on the couch next to a brunet who looks vaguely familiar.

 

jaebum doesn’t even know how to react, walking in on a scene like this. the phrases  _ this is awkward, how could this possibly be more uncomfortable,  _ and  _ god i feel like killing myself what have i witnessed  _ flit across his mind.

 

jinyoung has his arm around the brunet, their fingers linked together, and jinyoung’s forehead pressed against the back of the brunet’s head.

 

it looks so cozy. so domestic. jaebum almost feels like he shouldn’t be there. scratch that, he feels like he  _ definitely  _ shouldn't be there.

 

jaebum checks his watch. approximately seven hours ago, jinyoung was crying on the phone to him about how shinhyeo had ripped out his heart and stomped on it.

 

jaebum thinks he’s missed quite a lot in the last seven hours.

== 

**_—27 FEBRUARY_ **

**_21:03_ **

jinyoung cracks his eyes open just the slightest amount. his eyes are swollen from sleep and former tears, and it takes an effort to open them. he waits as the world transitions from several colored blobs to a coherent image. he lifts his head to check what the time is. mark’s asleep right next to him, but at this point that’s no longer a surprise. mark looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. jinyoung would describe it as porcelain. doll-like. serene. tranquil.

 

“good morning, sleepy-head.” jinyoung starts and turns in the direction of the voice, cricking his neck in the process. letting out a small sound of pain, he trains his still-disoriented eyes on the person who's sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, his phone in his hand.

 

“jaebummie hyung!” says jinyoung, his voice sleep-tinted, his face breaking into a huge smile. “when did you get back?”

 

“about two hours ago,” says the older, turning his phone over in his hands. “you two looked too peaceful to disturb.”

 

“ah,” says jinyoung dumbly, shifting slightly and causing mark to almost fall off the sofa. the younger catches him just in time, but also startles him awake. mark’s eyes snap open suddenly, and jinyoung pulls him up, whispering, “sorry, sorry, sorry.” he's still sleepy, not really awake fully, so he doesn't realize that he’s using the very word he hates with such a burning passion.

 

the older of the two takes a few steadying breaths, leaning back against jinyoung’s chest, not having noticed the third person in the room. jinyoung hands mark his glasses, that the younger remembered to take off and keep aside when he first noticed that the other was asleep.

 

jaebum watches the two with his eyebrows raised and a grin on his face before he walks out into full view, turning to jinyoung with an  _ aren’t you going to introduce me? _ look.

 

mark gets up off the couch as soon as he notices jaebum, almost tripping over his own feet, eyes wide and surprised. jinyoung gets up right after him, though at a more relaxed pace.

 

“jaebum, this is mark. mark, this is jaebum,” says jinyoung simply, stifling a yawn behind his hand. he wants to comment on how most introductions seem to be made right after one of their friends has to find the two of them napping together, but he thinks that’d probably be weird to say at the moment, since jaebum doesn’t know exactly  _ how  _ he met jackson, but only that the ravenet met jackson. 

 

“nice to literally meet you,” says jaebum, offering his hand to a very openly embarrassed mark. “i’m sure we already know more than enough about each other.”

 

mark smiles at that statement. “nice to literally meet you too.” he turns to jinyoung, who’s grimacing at jaebum. “if you don’t mind, could i use your bathroom and just freshen up a bit?” he asks softly, almost whispering. “i need to be a work in an hour.”

 

“yeah, sure. right over there, opposite the bedroom,” points the ravenet, and mark nods quickly, excusing himself.

 

“that fast, jinyoung-ah? i’m surprised,” teases jaebum.

 

“it’s not like that,” protests the ravenet, sitting back down tiredly. “i was feeling down, and you weren’t going to be here until seven, so i needed someone to talk to.”

 

“you know, i wouldn’t have lay down in the same sleeping space as you, and i’ve known you seven years,” remarks jaebum, titling his head impishly.

 

“i can’t help that you're all about that ‘personal space when sleeping’,”  blushes jinyoung, fiddling with the loose strings of the couch without meeting jaebum’s eyes.

 

“you’re going to tell me all that went down after he leaves,” whispers jaebum, his words holding a subtle threatening undertone. jinyoung knows it’s not wise to argue, for the sake of his own life. besides, what did ‘go down’? _ nothing, so there's nothing to make a big deal about. _

 

just then, mark exits the bathroom, all signs of sleep washed away from his face and looking relatively much fresher. he has an awkward smile on his face as he looks between jinyoung and jaebum, saying stiffly to the youngest, “well, i should get going now. feel better, jinyoung.” he nods in jaebum’s direction, not really meeting his eyes.

 

the oldest of the three walks to the door and twists the doorknob, shooting the other two a small smile that anyone can tell is forced and uncomfortable before letting himself out. jaebum flicks his head at jinyoung with his eyes wide, implication clear, and the ravenet, taking the cue, crosses the floor in a couple long strides and slips out the door, finding mark waiting for the elevator right opposite.

 

“hyung.” jinyoung walks over to the brunet, who looks at him expectantly once he's noticed him, a pleasant smile on his face. “thank you.” jinyoung really doesn’t know what to say, so he takes the typical jinyoung way and instead goes in for a hug, and of course mark obliges, but then does something that the younger doesn’t expect. he kisses him on the cheek.

 

“that was for yesterday. revenge,” explains mark, at the surprised look on jinyoung’s face. not that the younger doesn't appreciate it. he's so used to doling out affection that he often forgets how much he likes it when someone gives back. “you know revenge?”

 

“retaliation. payback. reprisal. yeah, i know revenge.” jinyoung scrunches up his face into a playful smile, though internally cringing.  _ great. nice reply, you fricking nerd. _

 

mark ruffles jinyoung’s ebony hair. “feel better,” he says again.

 

the ravenet leans into mark’s touch, smiling. “i’ll try.”

 

the elevator dings and opens, and mark gives jinyoung a small nod before stepping into it. jinyoung nods right back, feeling like he’s made a promise of some sort. he watches the elevator close and a couple seconds later, realizes that he should be back in his apartment, and not blankly staring at a closed elevator with a train of thought that seems to be being driven by a drunkard.

 

jaebum’s standing by the kitchen counter, tinkering with his phone again. jinyoung remembers that he never gave the older a proper welcome, after having complained for days about him not being there. jaebum puts down his phone and turns to the ravenet with a smile, arms open because he knows jinyoung all too well.

 

once jinyoung’s satisfied with all the hell he’s hugged out of jaebum, he seats himself on the kitchen counter as the older decides to make ramyeon for both of them.

 

“so what have i missed?” asks jaebum, putting a small pot on the stove and adding ramyeon and water to it.

 

“in truth, not much,” says jinyoung, his legs dangling off the counter. “and don’t put that much water in.”

 

“all right, all right,” snaps jaebum, taking some of the water out to rectify his mistake. he prods the ramyeon cakes tentatively. under general circumstances, jinyoung would be the one behind the stove, experimenting with ramyeon by adding weird flavors to the noodles. he once even made a dessert out of it. it truthfully wasn’t that bad. today, however, jaebum feels like being a little adventurous, attempting to cook. also, jinyoung guesses that the brunet probably feels a little sorry for him.

 

between chiding jaebum on how to properly make ramyeon, jinyoung tells, in very watered down terms about how mark just happened to be free that day to offer him a shoulder to cry on. jaebum listens carefully, letting jinyoung take over cooking the ramyeon when he comes close to burning it.

 

“incinerating ramyeon. they should give you a fucking award for that,” says jinyoung, shaking his head condescendingly. he pours the very nearly burnt ramyeon into two bowls, handing jaebum’s to him excessively carefully. the older raises his eyebrows questioningly. “your body heat alone might push it off the edge of edible,” explains the younger.

 

jinyoung sits on the couch and jaebum sits on the floor, slurping ramyeon in silence until they’re full enough to continue the conversation. jinyoung hasn't had anything to eat since that ice cream, so he eats with a vengeance.

 

“so what’re you going to do now?” asks the older, setting his empty bowl down next to him and stretching his legs out.

 

“what am i supposed to do? i avoid shinhyeo like he’s the embodiment of the plague and get on with my life, that’s what i’m going to do,” says jinyoung simply, sliding off the couch and sitting down next to jaebum on the floor.

 

the brunet puts an arm around him. “that’s easier said than done and we both know that.”

 

“i know,” says jinyoung, his voice turning sharper. he glares at everything and nothing, making jaebum want to cower in fear (he'll never admit it though) because goddamn, jinyoung’s glares are scary. and also make an appearance too often. “but it’s not like i can completely rid him from my surroundings, you know? it’s not like he’s going to run away after he rejected me—oh, sorry.”

 

jaebum’s face darkens. “it doesn’t matter. moving on.”

 

“sorry.” jinyoung shoots a quick apologetic glance at the other, flinching in realization this time because he used _ the word. _ he takes a deep breath. “i’ll learn to deal. the semester restarts day after tomorrow anyway. i’ll be too caught up in work to notice.”

 

“if you pull another i-will-overwork-to-forget-until-i-pass-out-with-exhaustion, i swear to god, park jinyoung, i will kill you,” warms jaebum, no bit of humor present in his voice. “i appoint myself to the park jinyoung watch patrol. i recruit choi youngjae as well.”

 

“obviously,” mutters jinyoung under his breath. if jaebum catches that, he doesn’t show it.

 

“i also appoint mark tuan to the patrol, but he shall not know that because obviously i’m not going to go up to him and recruit him, he’ll think i’m crazy. but i think he already knows he’s part of this,” rambles the brunet. he pauses for a second to look jinyoung’s face up and down in a scrutinizing manner. the ravenet betrays nothing. jaebum turns on his piercing stare, trying to pick out some sign,  _ any sign _ .

 

nothing.

 

“don’t look at me like that,” frowns jinyoung, squirming and knowing exactly what jaebum’s attempting. “i don’t like him. i like—liked shinhyeo. not anymore. i’m just swearing off guys for life, okay?”

 

“if you say so,” shrugs the older, with a knowing glance. “but if you ever change your mind, tell me first because i’ll know anyway, okay?” he takes the bowl from the ravenet’s hands and walks over to the sink, washing the utensils out. “by the way, would you prefer reading the headline  _ college student won shinhyeo’s skull broken to pieces after being rammed repeatedly with a library book scanner  _ or  _ college student won shinhyeo crushed under bookshelf _ _?_ ”

 

“i love that you made it librarian themed,” grins jinyoung, drawing his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. “the second, actually. i can’t stand headlines that are too long.”

 

==

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'blueberries' is honestly the first word that came to mind smh ://  
> yes, this is a little late, and i'm sorry about that. i hope this update helped make your day a little better. i love you all. <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is for hannah, my favorite angst enthusiast. <3 i kept your sadistic bent of mind in my head while writing this, and so this chapter's all yours.

**_—28 FEBRUARY_ **

**_8:08_ **

  
  


“i’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me!” jinyoung gestures plainly to the mess of notes on his desk. “i have to sort this all out!”

 

“i can’t help that you have no patience to keep your project in order,” shrugs youngjae, looking remarkably bright and fresh for eight a.m. on a sunday morning. the dark roots of his hair are beginning to show and his blondness is beginning to fade, but he has a rosy, healthy glow to him, the one he always acquires when he goes back to mokpo. jinyoung’s glad he’s back, but he also doesn’t want to go and—as youngjae calls it— _ get some fresh air _ or something like that. 

 

just then, jaebum walks out of the bedroom, hair looking like it’s been electrified three times over and in a crumpled tee and too-short sweatpants. he half-sleepwalks over to the kitchen counter and pours himself a glass of coffee. jinyoung swallows down a laugh, saving it and just waiting, waiting for jaebum to notice. youngjae is watching jaebum with an amused expression, finally choosing to chirp, “hi, hyung!”

 

jaebum yelps and hides under the counter in realization, and jinyoung laughs in plain amusement, “come out, you big baby. he already saw you.”

 

“that’s not why i hid,” whines jaebum, voice tired and rough. he straightens up again, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to try and get it to behave. “hi, jae,” he squeaks, not meeting the addressed in the eye and instead rushing off to the bathroom, leaving youngjae to continue nagging jinyoung.

 

“hyung.”

 

“no.”

 

“hyung.”

 

“ _ no. _ ”

 

youngjae crosses his arms and pouts. “please? you haven’t spent any time with me in ages. and you need to tell me about my favorite ship jinhyeo.”

 

“it went down like the titanic.”

 

youngjae looks surprised at this piece of information. jinyoung hadn't mentioned anything during their phone conversation yesterday morning, after which they hadn’t talked, so youngjae was painfully behind on the news. he finally chooses to reply, “the titanic was very romantic.”

 

“the movie was. i’m talking about the literal ship. it went down when it hit an iceberg. it went down. tragically,” says jinyoung slowly, as though explaining to a two-year-old.

 

“so you need to tell me about that!” reminds youngjae, flopping down on the floor and looking up at jinyoung pleadingly. youngjae doesn't have much of an affinity towards gossip, but he likes hearing what goes on in jinyoung’s life on the off-chance that something actually happens. increasingly, these days. jinyoung blames jaebum.

 

“don’t make that face,” says jinyoung, narrowing his eyes at youngjae, who does nothing but jut his lip out a bit more and widen his eyes by just the slightest measure. jinyoung, avoiding youngjae’s eyes for the sake of his limited willpower, turns back to his notes with a huff, gathering them in piles. he already knows the order to put them in—there’s a method to his madness. he just doesn’t want to go out.

 

a few minutes later, when jinyoung’s still ignoring youngjae, jaebum exits the bathroom, wearing a fresh pair of shorts and a fitted t-shirt—it’s not like being on the football team has put jaebum in any great shape, so the t-shirt is loose enough to make it look like you actually  _ can’t  _ pinch an inch of his middle. jinyoung spares him the shortest glance when he hears the footsteps of the older, rolling his eyes at the outfit choice. he would tell him to knock it off because youngjae already knows that jaebum’s fashion sense consists of sweatpants and hoodies, but he likes watching his best friend embarrass himself, and he guesses that youngjae really doesn’t have anything to protest about either.

 

“what did i miss?” jaebum quirks an eyebrow, gaze shifting from youngjae, who’s still pouting on the floor (though admittedly slightly distracted), to jinyoung, who’s furiously shuffling the papers in front of him, still trying his best to ignore youngjae.

 

“jinyoungie hyung doesn’t want to go out today,” says youngjae, looking pitiful. jinyoung rolls his eyes all over again. youngjae’s turning on the cutie charm again, and he knows that if he turns to him, if he comes face-to-face with that charm, he will say yes to everything youngjae asks for and forget to regret it later. he knows jaebum’s beyond saving now, but at least he can run away and save himself.

 

only one problem. running away would require him to get out of the house.

 

jaebum hoists him up by the armpits, and jinyoung whines, wondering when the hell he walked over and deciding that his next christmas present would be a fricking bell that he would sew onto the older’s neck. he pushes the jaebum’s arms away, trying to sit back down, only to find that youngjae’s pulled his chair out for under him. only, he figures that out a second too late, so he lands on his ass with a thud.

 

jaebum bursts into laughter and youngjae looks the slightest bit guilty as jinyoung glares at both of them, arms crossed and tailbone aching. his face is puffy from not sleeping at all last night and his hair is still not combed despite him having been up since daybreak. he looks pathetic.

 

jaebum and youngjae don’t seem to think so. “get to your feet,” commands jaebum, holding his hand out for jinyoung to take. jinyoung swats it away, instead hoisting himself up on his own, glowering at the other two all the while.

 

“come on, jinyoungie hyung, let’s have a 2young2jae day. it’s been ten days since that,” pleads youngjae.

 

“i beg to differ,” scowls jinyoung. “ten days ago, you ditched me for him”—he jabs an accusing finger at jaebum with his glare pointed at youngjae—“and threw me to a theme park on my own.”

 

“where you met the love of your life, you’re fucking welcome,” remarks jaebum, voice dangerously calm.

 

“not. the. fucking. time,” grits out jinyoung, taking a dangerous step towards jaebum, who stands his ground.

 

“you're not even denying it, what the fuck—”

 

“i don't need to deny anything, you —”

 

“i’ll get you those pretzels you like,” says youngjae suddenly. jinyoung turns to the younger, who steps towards him slowly, almost tentatively. jinyoung immediately feels guilty. and the offer of pretzels sounds very good. youngjae takes another step forward, and jinyoung takes a breath, regaining his composure, nodding slowly. 

 

youngjae is probably the only person in the world who has this kind of effect on jinyoung. jinyoung moved from jinhae to seoul when he was six years old, and found out that his neighbors had moved there only a couple months ago themselves, and had a boy a couple years younger than him. jinyoung had always wanted a younger sibling, and youngjae was all too eager to be pampered by yet another older sibling. after years of protecting youngjae, jinyoung still only sees him as the little kid who he has to defend from being bullied on the playground, the little kid who won’t eat anything with cucumber in it, the little kid who sucks his thumb until the skin become wrinkled and riddled with chew-marks. after years of mothering youngjae, he can’t accept that the younger has actually grown up into a mature, though sometimes clueless, young adult.

 

“you can literally be bribed into doing anything by using food, you’re so easy,” giggles youngjae, reaching up to ruffle jinyoung’s hair. he walks over to the door. “we going to paradise mall or what?”

 

“we’re coming, jae,” says jaebum, casting a small glance full of something unrecognizable in jinyoung’s direction. “wait for us downstairs, we’ll be there.”

 

youngjae flashes him a thumbs-up and walks out. jaebum turns to jinyoung with the smallest of smiles. “you listen to him better than i do.”

 

“don’t be jealous, you loser. that’s my baby brother,” snaps jinyoung, but there’s no bite to his statement. just guilt. because all they want to do is spend time with him to make him feel better, and he’s overreacting for nothing. and like always, he blames the stupid voices in his head.

 

“i’m not jealous. it just always surprises me that oh-so-stubborn park jinyoung caves for someone, that’s all,” shrugs jaebum. he’s looking over jinyoung with that usual dissecting gaze. “why didn’t you sleep last night?”

 

“i did sleep,” says jinyoung quickly. too quickly.  _ shit. _

 

“no, you didn’t. when sleeping, adult human beings have an even breathing rate of about twelve to twenty breaths per minute. emphasis on the word  _ even _ . i know what your breathing sounds like. i’ve shared a room with you for the last three years,” explains jaebum plainly, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“you study my breathing? even though i get that you’re a biology—technically biotech, but honestly, who cares—major, that’s creepy, hyung.” jinyoung makes a disgusted face and steps away from the older.

 

“it’s not a conscious study. it’s just that you always sleep in later than i do, so i know what the room sounds like when i wake up. and i know when you’re awake. don’t tell me i don’t. i do.” jaebum frowns. “where did this conversation start? right, you didn’t sleep.”

 

“fine, i didn’t okay?” deadpans jinyoung, sighing in resignation and looking at the ground in painful defeat. 

 

“you were overthinking again, weren’t you?”

 

jinyoung doesn’t dare meet jaebum’s eyes because he doesn’t want to give the older the satisfaction of knowing that he’s right, even though it’s been a satisfaction he’s been feeling since he met jinyoung. jaebum is highly observant, and always right when it comes to jinyoung in particular, because jinyoung wears his emotions in bold black letters over his forehead.

 

in this case, he was especially correct. he  _ was  _ overthinking. something about the dark of the night brings out all the insecurity in jinyoung. something about the dark of the night brings out all the hidden monsters, the ones that twist his emotions and convince him that he’s useless, unlovable and unworthy of everything and anything. he knows that it sounds dramatic, but it’s true. when he lets a thought get out of control in his brain, it will leach all his positivity out of him until all he’s left with are tears, stress and no self-esteem. he’s always okay during the days, but the nights are torture.

 

the whole drama with shinhyeo makes him feel like he’d be better off without crushes. crushes are cute when they’re being watched from a third person’s perspective, but nothing about seeing it from first person is cute. it’s ugly and vicious, destroys sanity and all things sensible, and leaves behind emptiness and annoyance and regret when things don’t end well. (and more often than not, they  _ really _ don't end well.)

 

jaebum snaps his fingers in front of his face. “hey.” jinyoung blinks and looks up. “this is why we want to take you out, okay? we’re going to have a good time, okay?”

 

jaebum sounds so convincing that jinyoung can’t help but give him a promising, firm nod. jaebum slings an arm over jinyoung’s shoulders. “come on, jae’s waiting for us.”

 

jinyoung runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it quickly and smoothing down the wrinkles on his shirt. they take the elevator down and youngjae’s waiting there patiently, and there’s something understanding about his air, like he knows exactly why they’re late, like he knows exactly what conversation they had. jinyoung gives him a questioning look as they all begin walking down the street, youngjae telling them in excited tones all about the newest dramas that he watched over the holidays, putting any suspicion out of jinyoung’s mind.

 

jinyoung walks between jaebum and youngjae, listening intently to youngjae’s rave, which is half about weightlifting fairy kim bokjoo, and half about coco, his maltese, who had to move into youngjae’s cousin’s house in mokpo after he started college—he being youngjae, not coco. jinyoung rolls his eyes affectionately, because youngjae is such a dork when it comes to coco.

 

the other two always make an extra effort to include jinyoung whenever it’s the three of them together. jinyoung was, after all, the one who introduced the two of them to each other, or rather, forced them to get to know each other. the fact that they always put jinyoung first when it’s the three of them together in public has the smallest ulterior motive to it, the motive being that it helps keep their relationship hidden. jinyoung and youngjae’s other best friend minseun are the only ones allowed to know about them. they haven’t come out to their parents yet, because it’s obvious that they won’t be accepted. they keep it hidden, acting like best friends in public.

 

jinyoung had been lucky to end up in a progressive family, and his parents, though they hadn’t been exposed to the idea of homosexuality when he first came out to them, came around to being open to it eventually. jinyoung thanks his stars for them every day. it makes things easier for him, if not completely easy. 

 

he remembers the huge amount of drama he’d gotten into during the first year of college when jaebum’s parents told him that he couldn’t share a dorm with their son since they didn’t want jaebum ‘catching what jinyoung had’. but then jaebum had stepped in and told them that he was old enough to make his decisions, that he would live with jinyoung whether or not they liked it. by third year, then they signed a lease on the apartment together, they’d become a little more accepting, but jinyoung always could tell how awkward, how different they were around him. 

 

youngjae’s parents accepted jinyoung because his parents had accepted him, but he also knows that they had established that youngjae swinging that way would be out of the question. even they’re wary around jinyoung these days, and these are the same people who treated him like a son when he was growing up. 

 

music is often what jinyoung turns to when life gets a little vicious. he has a poster that hangs in the hall of his apartment, handmade by jaebum and youngjae for his twenty-first birthday, that has the lyrics of ‘fire’ on it.

 

“ _ live the way you want, _

_ life is yours anyway. _

_ don’t try too hard, _

_ it’s okay to lose. _ ”

 

it helps him get through the day.

 

they wander around and get breakfast at a nearby diner to kill time before the mall opens. they arrive at the mall just as youngjae’s explaining the scene when bokjoo’s father finds out about her going to the weight clinic when she’s supposed to be gaining weight. youngjae’s descriptions always bring smiles. he’s an artist’s dream. he describes everything down to the last detail so vividly that you could paint a picture out of it. his music flows that way too.

 

“where do you want to go, hyungs?” asks youngjae, glancing over at all the stores and enjoying the copious amounts of cold air given out by the air-conditioners. “i need to go to the video game shop because i saved up enough for new one, but i can finish that later.”

 

“let’s go hang out at the bookstore for some time, please?” asks jinyoung immediately. jaebum rolls his eyes like he expected it. he probably did.

 

“why not? it’s your day, hyung. we go where you want,” says youngjae cheerfully, linking his arm with jinyoung’s, who considerably brightens at that. so they spend time at the book shop, where jinyoung treats himself to a new novel, but only because they have a half-price spring sale. jaebum browses but doesn’t buy anything, and youngjae buys a new album from the music section, thinking he could get a extra-credit paper out of studying it.

 

they then go watch the latest song joongki movie, youngjae singing ‘you are my everything’ softly under his breath every time song joongki appears on screen and making the other two giggle. the beautiful love story throws a sharp pang to jinyoung’s heart, but it also gives him the smallest bit of hope, knowing that somewhere, there might actually be someone for him. for now, he just stuffs his face with cheese-dusted popcorn and looks somewhere else, anywhere else when the leads kiss.

 

they walk out of the movie, nodding appreciatively and discussing what was right and wrong with it like knock-offs of seasoned critics. jaebum suddenly points to the store across the movie theatre. “guys, can we go over there for a second? i left my jacket back at ilsan and i need to buy one. also, my relatives showered me with money because i grew up so i’m feeling a little rich.”

 

“‘my relatives showered me with money because i grew up’,” imitates jinyoung, dragging air quotes with his fingers. “that’s like they’re paying you because you survived this long.” jaebum shoots him a look. “okay, let’s go.”

 

_ fashion passion. the name sounds vaguely familiar. did someone mention it once? _ jinyoung’s speculation comes to an abrupt halt when he realizes exactly where he heard the name, confirmed by the brunet who greets them as they walk through the spotless glass doors.

 

“jinyoung! youngjae!” the excited employee who comes over to greet them turns out to be none other than jackson wang, with an huge smile on his face. “what brings you here?”

 

“jackson! hi! uh, he actually came to buy a jacket—“ jinyoung automatically gestures to jaebum, and jackson cuts him off.

 

“of course, you came to the right place!” cheeps jackson, smiling widely at the other brunet. “you’re jaebum, right?” the older gives him a curt nod, and jinyoung already senses trouble. youngjae is looking at jackson with an expression reminiscent to a fanboy who’s meeting his idol, and jaebum’s jaw is set and pointed out, something that unconsciously happens when he’s angry.

 

_ oh, fuck. shit’s about to go down. _

_ and yet this is vaguely amusing. _

_ calm him down or watch the drama? _

_ toughie. just bide your time. decide later. _

 

jackson takes jaebum over to the jacket section, rambling on about the different styles and fits and which one he thinks would suit jaebum, who specifies his requirements (cheap, functional, preferably black) and jackson nods appreciatively. “it’s always nice to come across a customer who knows exactly what they want. there aren’t many like you.” 

 

jinyoung almost wants to tell him that the reason jaebum is being so specific is because he wants to get out of there fast, because he’s been shopping with jaebum so many times and each time he’s taken about half an hour to select one piece of clothing. it drives jinyoung—who takes the best deal he can find as long as it guarantees him getting out of the shop fast—crazy.

 

youngjae asks jackson about his fencing practice and they chatter on amicably about sports and extracurriculars, with the older of the two simultaneously helping jaebum out. jinyoung observes the conversation with a smile. the exchange between them has all the grace of a waterfall. it’s easy and continuous and shows no sign of ending soon. of course, the two social butterflies of their respective years, getting along like a house on fire. the ravenet hisses to jaebum to breathe, to not be this fucking obvious, and jaebum clenches his fist behind his back, digging his nails into his palms until he’s breathing normally again.

 

“you’re unbelievably clingy and jealous, you have a temper shorter than jackson and you love your textbooks more than anything else in the world. jae’s brain must be incredibly messed up if he agreed to go out with you,” smirks jinyoung, whispering to jaebum, while youngjae and jackson talk about the upcoming football game. only one person dares wind jaebum up when he’s already wound up, and jinyoung always makes the most of it.

 

“i’m not clingy and jealous, you asshat,” mutters jaebum, punching jinyoung lightly in the side.

 

“more like  _ jae _ lous, am i right?” murmurs back jinyoung, thoroughly enjoying himself. “and if i’m thinking right, the part you should be disputing is jae’s brain being incredibly messed up, you self-obsessed bast—”

 

“how about this one?” asks jackson, holding out a large jacket. there are pockets all over the front, and it’s within jaebum’s price range. jaebum looks to jinyoung for confirmation, and youngjae pipes up, “i like it, hyung.” jaebum raises his eyebrows at jinyoung, who frowns playfully back, as though saying,  _ yeah, right, like you need my opinion now _ .

 

“i’ll take it,” says jaebum heavily, not even trying to smile at jackson, who’s giving him a teeth-revealing grin.

 

“amazing!” jinyoung wonders whether everything that comes out of jackson’s mouth has to be so chirpy, so cheerful. _ it’s a fricking talent. _

 

jackson takes them to the cash register and gives it to the cashier at the counter with a smile. he even manages to get them a discount by saying they’re personal friends of his and turning a bit of his charm on for the girl, who rolls her eyes at him like she’s used to this, causing youngjae to laugh. the girl then rings it up for them and puts it in a bag. jaebum’s paying and jinyoung’s trying to persuade him to buy something for him as well when jackson suddenly bounds over to the shop’s entrance, through which enters another familiar brunet, holding two coffee cups in his hand.

 

jinyoung turns after hearing jackson’s squeal of “markiepooh!” but mark doesn’t notice the three by the counter. jaebum’s looking at jinyoung as though now would be a good time to take his revenge for all the commenting that jinyoung indulged in earlier, and jinyoung is shaking his head as furiously as he can without seeming like a wet dog. he knows what jaebum thinks, and he knows that jaebum’s too used to knowing that he’s right to think that he might be wrong this time. he’s very, very wrong. jinyoung does  _ not  _ like mark. not like  _ that _ . 

 

does he like hanging out with mark?  _ yes _ . does he like pretending to be his fake boyfriend?  _ yes _ . does he like having conversations with him whether they’re both half-asleep and living off coffee or not?  _ yes _ . is his first thought when he gets up in the middle of the night to text him?  _ yes _ . but does he like  _ him _ ? like  _ that _ ?  _ no _ .

 

“yah, jinyoung!” jackson’s voice snaps him out of his racing thoughts and his eyes come back into focus. “too preoccupied to say hi?” jackson asks, gesturing to mark, who shoots him a death glare—him being jackson, not jinyoung.

 

_ fuck. what did he just say? _

_ preoccupied? kinda. _

_ why does he sound like he’s teasing you? _

_ probably cause he is. _

_ this is weird. _

_ maybe say something and then mentally freak out, yeah? _

 

“no!” says jinyoung defensively. his face stretches into an awkward smile, and he feels like he’s been caught ignoring mark or something, but that’s not even the case. he tries to crush this overwhelming feeling of weirdness and foreignness that’s filling up his chest. he takes a moment to pull himself together and pinpoint the reason. four reasons, to be specific. the reasons being jaebum, youngjae, mark and jackson.

 

jinyoung’s personality is very fluid. he adopts different personas with different people. there’s a predominant part of him that remains in all personas—the part that makes him park jinyoung—but a lot changes about the way he expresses himself and the things he talks about. 

 

with jaebum? he is  _ the  _ best friend—the one who is there to listen and to talk if needed, the one who makes jokes at jaebum’s expense and does not feel the least bit guilty, the one who fits into his life like he was meant to be there, even if they keep saying that the one thing they’d like is the other  _ out  _ of their life. 

 

with youngjae? he’s the protective mom—protect, protect, protect, drown with affection, protect, protect, more affection. he caves easily, is obliging as fuck, and will literally go to the ends of the earth to hunt down anyone who dares hurt youngjae.

 

with jackson? on the occasional chance that he happens to see him, (like the times when he barges into mark’s room when jinyoung’s hanging out there, around campus, the café) he’s casual, breezy, and lets jackson do all the talking. they exchange meaningless banter, taking a slight jab at each other if the opportunity presents itself. their conversations never really last more than a few minutes, anyway.

 

with mark? he’s open, affectionate, and absolutely shameless. he doesn’t care what comes out of his mouth. he discovers a bit more of what the friendship can be like day by day, since it’s brand new but at the same time feeling ancient—like it's a part of him that's always been there but he just discovered it—and every moment spent with the brunet has given him no reason to ever regret the friendship.

 

his personalities with jaebum and youngjae fit together—they melded together over time, not immediately—, but that’s where it stops, because now he’s conflicted so as to how to react. jackson’s introducing mark to youngjae, and jinyoung stands and watches, thinking this is all going to play out very awkwardly. in five minutes, he’ll know he was never more right and more wrong about something in his life.

 

jaebum ensures that fate when jackson tries to introduce him to mark.

 

“jaebum, this is—“

 

“i know, i caught mark and jinyoung sleeping together on my couch yesterday,” says jaebum simply, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face. mark rubs his neck embarrassedly, looking down at the ground.

 

_ jaebum is dying today. painfully. _

_ amen to that. _

_ fuck fuck fuck, fuckity fuck. _

_ god, i wanna die. _

_ you’re going to die of embarrassment. _

_ no joke. _

 

“you caught them sleeping together too?” marvels jackson, mirroring the grin. jinyoung wants to become one with the floor.

 

“you were sleeping together?” asks youngjae, confused.

 

jinyoung raises his palm to his forehead, cringing inside and outside. “no.” jaebum and jackson begin protesting, and jinyoung raises his voice above them. “okay, okay! yes. but like, literally.”

 

“huh?” youngjae tilts his head, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

 

“like, we were lying on the same couch,” squeezes out jinyoung, face contorted in a painful expression but hidden behind his hand. god, he  _ really  _ wants to die.

 

“what else would i think?” teases youngjae, shrugging exaggeratedly. 

 

what jinyoung doesn't realize is that this situation in itself is actually distracting him, taking him away from everything that he's been obsessing about for the last twenty-four hours. there's a part of him that can see this from the eyes of one of the others there, and it finds it  _ hilarious _ .

 

“for the record, what do you mean  _ your  _ couch? that’s my couch too,” corrects jinyoung, removing his hand to glare at jaebum openly.

 

“i think what you should be caring about here is the fact that you two have been caught in the same bed once in the last two weeks by 66.67 percent of your friend population,” elucidates jaebum, looking like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather do than rib his best friend.  _ soon to be ex-best friend _ , thinks jinyoung.

 

“ _ once _ ? i caught them napping together like five times over the past two weeks,” reveals jackson with a shriek of laughter. mark’s head ducks lower, if that’s possible, and his eyes scrunch shut for a few seconds. half of jinyoung thinks mark will never talk to him again. the other half knows he’s being stupid.

 

“oh my god, for real?” asks youngjae, slapping jackson’s arm. jaebum shoots the smallest of glares at the place on jackson’s arm that youngjae slapped, evidently not even approving  _ that _ kind of contact. jinyoung derives a weird vindictive pleasure from seeing jaebum get mad at something as stupid as that.

 

“he doesn’t quite know how to knock.” jinyoung’s switching his glare from one to the other, but it’s more embarrassed than angry. mark tugs on his sleeve, and he turns.

 

“drop the topic,” says mark in a low voice, as the other three laugh. “just change the subject.”

 

_ change the subject? how? _ jaebum, jackson and youngjae seem to be having the time of their life, as jackson shares his stories on what’s been happening over the last one week, interspersed with cackles and giggles. jinyoung thinks he’ll just go hide in the racks of prom dresses over there. anything’s better than his current standing.

 

“yah, here.” mark hands jinyoung one of the coffee cups that he's holding, and jackson cuts off his laughter, assuming an offended expression.

 

“just wondering,” begins jinyoung, hands wrapping around the cold cup in his hand. “but who drinks coffee at one in the afternoon—”

 

“ _ excuse  _ me, mark.” jackson cuts him off, crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow at the oldest. “i believe that was  _ my  _ coffee.”

 

“i believe one of your jobs as my best friend is not embarrassing me,” says mark expressionlessly.

 

“i believe one of my jobs is!” jackson protests indignantly and jaebum nods, seconding him.

 

“jackson hyung, why don’t we  _ all _ go for coffee?” youngjae addresses jackson, but looks to jaebum for confirmation. that very gesture alone makes jaebum nod slightly in affirmation.

 

“why not? i haven’t taken a break all day! yah, dahyunnie?” jackson calls the cashier girl. “i’m taking a break, so cover for me, yeah?” the girl doesn’t even get a chance to reply before jackson pushes youngjae and jaebum out the door. “i know this amazing place on this floor that has like the best—”  and that leaves mark and jinyoung uneasily standing there like statues, unsure if that even happened in the first place.

 

“well, that was…” begins jinyoung slowly.

 

“…something,” completes mark, finally looking up. they share a small humiliated smile and look away again.

 

“at least they’re getting along.” jinyoung taps his fingers on the cup in his hand, trying to salvage the situation.

 

“yeah,” breathes mark. he waits a couple seconds before asking, “are you feeling better?”

 

  1. _shinhyeo. right._ “i guess it’s a weight off my mind, being completely honest.”



 

“mhmm, good,” murmurs mark, the words barely heard. he risks one more glance at jinyoung. “i think we should go join them.”

 

_ fix the awkwardness. fix the awkwardness. fix the awkwardness. _ jinyoung puts an arm around mark, who grins up at him almost gratefully, even if the gesture is a little awkwardly executed. 

 

_ mission accomplished.  _

_ now kiss him on the cheek.  _

_ why?  _

_ because you have to.  _

_ it breaks tension.  _

_ i think. either way, just do it. _

_ what do you have against kissing the boy anyway?  _

 

so he does. and mark isn’t even surprised this time. and the walls that were building around them drop immediately.

 

“are we allowed to be gross and gay in public?” asks mark with a quizzical look.

 

“it’s only gross and gay if we're actually together. doesn't count because we're only fake-together,” reminds jinyoung, and mark shoots him a small smile. 

 

jinyoung almost frowns. since the day the met, mark’s eyes have become harder and harder to read. it was easy at first, but then there emerged too many,  _ way _ too many emotions to count, to distinguish, to identify in a short time frame.

 

for the moment, the thought leaves his mind quickly because it registers that their friends are waiting for them. only as they walk out of the glass doors, they find jaebum, youngjae and jackson standing a little away from the store, with evil grins on their face. evidently waiting for them. evidently having witnessed that whole spectacle.

 

“oh, dear god,” mutters jinyoung, burying his head in mark’s shoulder. he can't handle this. he feels like neville longbottom.  _ why is it always me? _

 

“you know there’s no point in you two even hiding how sickeningly sweet you are to each other, right?” sing-songs jaebum. jinyoung decides he shall actually carry out his long-standing threat and punch him later.

 

“it’s okay,” sighs mark, with the voice of a general accepting his defeat after the death of his entire platoon. “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

 

“what?” asks jinyoung, looking up. “how does that apply here? you want us to tease _ ourselves _ ?”

 

“that's not what i meant. i mean...own it.” mark looks at jinyoung like he's too tired to be this literal.

 

“in that case, the expression you should use is ‘give the crowd what it wants’,” corrects the ravenet, and mark slaps him on the chest as though to say,  _ do me a favor and shut the fuck up _ .

 

“if you two are done arguing about your literary bullshit, can we go get our coffee?” jaebum sounds a bit like a grandfather who is tired of his grandchildren ignoring him for their electronic devices. jinyoung wants to correct him and say that just because he doesn’t comprehend the contents of a conversation involving jinyoung in it, the subject does not get automatically classified under  _ literary bullshit. _

 

“all right, all right, all right,” says jinyoung, rolling his eyes. jaebum looks like he hopes they'll get stuck up there. “lead the way, hyung.”

 

“wrong hyung, jinyoung,” smiles jackson. “i'm the one leading the way.”

 

“yes, but i'm not calling you hyung.” jinyoung shakes his head firmly. jackson’s born in the same year as him, even though he's in his senior year.

 

jackson shrugs. “didn't expect you to anyway. come on!” he skips in front and youngjae skips to keep up with him. jaebum speed-walks, probably considering skipping below his dignity. mark and jinyoung lag behind, the latter not having the energy to try to catch up.

 

“you look like death,” remarks mark softly, the slightest of concern lacing his voice.

 

jinyoung sighs, running his fingers through his hair in a mixture of frustration and fatigue. “i take it you're putting it nicely?”

 

mark takes a sip of his coffee contemplatively. “nope. if i didn't know you well enough i'd say you look fine.” mark slows his footsteps a bit so that their footsteps fall in sync.

 

“hyung, i am offended. and also, how does knowing me ten days make you think you know me well enough?” jinyoung still marvels at the length of the timeframe that they've known each other.

 

mark lets out an exasperated sigh that verges on amused. “we've had this conversation about seven times at least. also, it's twelve days.”

 

“you've been counting?” teases the younger, bumping his hip against mark’s playfully.

 

mark rolls his eyes. “nope, just keeping notes to tell your  _ next  _ fake boyfriend when you'll think it's okay to sleep in the same bed with them. or kiss them on the cheek.”

 

jinyoung hums at that, mulling over the statement to decide how to reply. “i’d stop doing that if you wanted me to, but it doesn't seem that way.” it only counts as flirting if jinyoung intends it to be that way. and he doesn't. so it's whatever.

 

“touché,” laughs mark, as they enter the coffee shop. jackson turns around, putting a hand on youngjae’s shoulder to stop the younger. jinyoung can see jaebum flinch, but he doesn't think anyone else notices.

 

“you two, traitors, go order for us,” orders jackson, and mark puts a hand to his heart in offense. “don't look like that,” continues jackson, sticking his tongue out at the oldest brunet. “no one gives my low fat mocha frappuccino with whipped cream, two squeezes of caramel sauce and extra sugar to anyone else and gets away with it.”

 

“is this what keeps you this high all day? interesting,” says jinyoung, taking a tentative sip of the drink. it's on the verge of too sweet, spreading a gentle chill in his chest as he swallows it.

 

“he's this way without the caffeine, it's a mystery of science,” says mark dryly, and jackson lets out a noise of exclamation, slapping mark on the arm and saying, “don't flatter me, markiepooh. i'm still not letting you off.”

 

“hold up, you consider _ that _ flattery?” butts in jaebum, raising his eyebrows.

 

“any comment concerning me is a compliment, basically,” says jackson with a laugh. jinyoung finds his level of positivity both entertaining and alarming.

 

“have you ever been called  _ over _ -social?” asks jaebum nonchalantly. jinyoung can sense the light jab that lies beneath the statement, and he can also trace the half-glance that jaebum sends in a certain blond’s direction.  _ stupid, stupid, tactless jaebum _ , sighs jinyoung internally.  _ at this rate, even youngjae will be able to catch on _ . but then he reminds himself of the seven-year familiarity advantage that he alone possesses, and then figures it'll probably be a while until someone else catches on.

 

“not really, but what's wrong with that? just because you add the word _ over _ in front of an action doesn't mean that it automatically becomes negative, am i right, my lit bud?” jackson turns with a grin to jinyoung.

 

the ravenet takes a second to register the question, and then shrugs. “overeating, overreacting, overspending, overusing, overdrinking—examples like that haven't been very good for the track record of the word, but—”

 

“did we not agree on no more literary bullshit?” jaebum looks like he's had enough of that shit for a fucking lifetime. that in itself instigates the ravnet to want to go on.

 

“you are hanging out with a literature major, what did you expect?” questions jinyoung. technically, they’ve been discussing language all this time, and not literature, but that goes over jinyoung’s head, his cardinal priority at the moment being annoying jaebum.

 

“you don't hear me going on about the intercellular complications of the cells genetically modified by methods developed by modern scientists,” retorts jaebum. “you don't hear youngjae singing all the time—oh, wait. sorry, jae, i'm going to have to take that back.” it’s not even an insult, but the undertones of spite are masked but present.

 

youngjae’s smile drops for the fewest of seconds and alarm bells begin to go off in jinyoung’s head.  _ oh, he fucking didn’t. tell me he didn’t just cause youngjae to lose that smile. _ “we get the point,” says jinyoung hurriedly, deciding he'll deal with jaebum later. “what do you guys want to order? i’ll order this time.”

 

“one of whatever you're holding for me,” says jackson, pointing to the cup that jinyoung’s sipping from.

 

“i naturally assumed,” smiles jinyoung. “although in absolute honesty, i don't remember anything beyond low fat.”

 

“that's why you're taking mark to the counter as well, hon,” smiles back jackson, patting jinyoung on the shoulder.

 

“i'll have a devil’s own,” says youngjae. jinyoung doesn't know whether he's just being paranoid or if youngjae’s voice sounds a little softer than usual.  _ probably paranoid. please just let it be me being paranoid. _

 

jackson claps a hand to youngjae’s shoulder. “excellent choice, my dongsaeng.” youngjae’s smile brightens a bit and jinyoung doesn't know whether to stop worrying or to worry all the more.

 

“i’ll have an espresso,” decides jaebum plainly. “it's the thing that i know you two are least likely to forget—a precaution just in case you two get too lost in each other.”

 

“nice one!” compliments jackson, holding his fist out for jaebum to bump.

 

_ im jaebum, you bastard _ , thinks jinyoung, on the verge of rolling his eyes for the nth time today.  _ so _ now,  _ when you get to gang up against  _ me _ , and tease  _ me _ , you'll be okay with getting along with jackson. _

 

jaebum wiggles his eyebrows at jinyoung. they often have a competition—who can make eyebrow wiggles more provocative and threatening—but jinyoung just doesn’t have it in him today, so he just shrugs weakly. “i’ll get your fuckin’ coffees.”

 

“i believe you meant  _ we _ ,” corrects jackson, shoving mark in jinyoung’s direction. the older plants his heels into the ground to prevent himself from falling, but jinyoung reaches out regardless, though admittedly a lot more hesitantly than he usually would. he can't handle that stupid shit-eating grin that jaebum’s been channeling in his direction for a while. he wants to just flip a table and run, if he's being completely honest. but something speaks up in his head—he thinks it's called a mixture of stubbornness and pride—and that doesn't let him do anything than pretend that everything going on does _ not _ affect him.

 

he'll never admit it, but in complete honesty, it puts certain _ other _ things out of his mind, and that underneath all that embarrassment, he just  _ might _ be slightly thankful for the distraction.

 

==

 

**_—28 FEBRUARY_ **

**_1:11_ **

  
  


jackson clasps his hands together in a detective-esque manner, looking over his fingers at the expectant brunet sitting opposite him, the blond next to him also looking at him with an equally expectant expression that he can see in his peripheral vision. 

 

the dramatist in him wishes the blond had sat opposite him instead, so they could both get a full view of his practiced enigmatic expression. he doesn't get why the blond circled the table to sit next to him instead, but he can definitely sense the cold waves emanating from both. something feels very off, but jackson can't put his finger on it. 

 

jackson wants to tell them to spill their problems to him, so he can help them out (constantly wanting to help people out is probably what defines jackson), but he obviously doesn't know them well enough to say anything. he just met the brunet less than an hour ago. he feels helpless.

 

jackson hates feeling helpless.

 

but he can't do anything about that now, so he instead chooses to turn to the matter of current importance.

 

at least, to the three of them.

 

“so, jaebum. youngjae.” he throws a glance at their other two friends in line. “what the fuck are we going to do about those two.”

 

“i don't honestly know,” sighs jaebum, looking directly at jackson like he's trying his best not to look anywhere else. “it's like they're fucking oblivious so as to how perfect they are for each other, as corny as that sounds.”

 

“of course, you'd know about being oblivious, wouldn't you?” murmurs youngjae.

 

“i learnt from the best,” snaps jaebum acidly. youngjae lowers his gaze to the table, and jackson does not want to be there. like, at all. and this is the first he's ever not wanted to be around people.

 

there's a silence that even jackson doesn't know how to fill. youngjae takes a deep breath and finally speaks, his voice sounding he's painfully forcing each himself to keep it soft. “the thing is, jinyoung hyung just got out of a…situation, so i don't think this is the best time to get him into a relationship. not when i still don't think he's over—”

 

“he was in a relationship before?” asks jackson, lips dropping into an ‘o’ of surprise, feigning ignorance.

 

“no, of course not,” says jaebum hurriedly. “if he was, he'd have never agreed to that whole ‘fake boyfriend’ act, or whatever they're using to justify their lovesickness. it's just”—he looks to youngjae for a quick second as though asking for a little help on framing his words, but the younger is looking staunchly in the opposite direction—“that jinyoung used to like someone, and that person kinda…said no.”

 

jackson nods like that's enough information for him to understand the situation. he refrains from adding,  _ really? is that person’s name won shinhyeo? red hair? lit major, just like the person we're talking about? about ye high? _

 

“so we have to bide our time, basically,” summarizes youngjae softly. “but of course, we're not going to let them off without getting together.”

 

“they'd be a fricking power couple,” muses jaebum out loud.

 

“now what would you know about that?” youngjae’s tone is overly sweet. jackson shivers. there's evil under the sweetness. it doesn't seem like youngjae at all. jackson feels like the curiosity is eating him alive.

 

why? why would youngjae say something like that? why would jaebum glare like that? why does the atmosphere feel so dense that it makes jackson wonder whether he could legitimately slice the air with a knife?

 

“maybe a little more than you,” responds jaebum finally. his tone has taken a leap from aggressive to plainly nonchalant, like he definitely doesn't give a fuck.  _ he definitely gives more than a few _ , realizes jackson.  _ what about?  _ he can't answer that.

 

youngjae has dropped the cover, glaring plainly at jaebum, who simply picks at his fingernails, schooling his expression into one as blank as he can make it.

 

jackson opens his mouth, about to say something, when mark and jinyoung make their way to the table, coffees in hand.

 

he looks at the two with something close to relief. mark raises his eyebrows, subtly questioning him, but jinyoung’s eyes are flicking back and forth between the other two at the table, his frown growing deeper and deeper.

 

jackson wonders which is colder—the cup in his hand or jinyoung’s glare.

 

==

 

**_—28 FEBRUARY_ **

**_23:27_ **

  
  


jinyoung waited for jaebum and youngjae to go back their normal selves once they'd left jackson and mark.

 

they didn't.

 

jinyoung waited for jaebum and youngjae to say something to each other instead of just talking pointedly to him.

 

they didn't.

 

jinyoung waited for jaebum and youngjae to offer him an explanation so as to why they were acting the way they were.

 

they didn't.

 

jinyoung waited for jaebum to kiss youngjae on the head the way he always does when the younger is leaving to go back to his dorm.

 

he didn't.

 

jinyoung waited for youngjae to turn around and wave once more at them, the way he always does.

 

he didn't.

 

jinyoung waited for jaebum to open the bedroom door so they can just  _ talk _ , playing the ‘that's my bedroom too’ card many times over.

 

he didn't.

 

jinyoung waited for youngjae to stop cutting off his calls with a message that said ‘busy right now, call later’.

 

he didn't.

 

now, jinyoung waits for jaebum and youngjae to leave his thoughts, so he can have a few hours of sleep at least.

 

they don't.

 

—

 

**_—1 MARCH_ **

**_7:12_ **

  
  


“you stupid fucktard, you didn't sleep again, did you?” 

 

jinyoung glares, reaching over the counter for the mug of coffee that jaebum is handing him. “good morning to you too, asshat.”

 

“mhmm, not a very good one for you, i think,” remarks jaebum, giving him a disdainful once-over, his scrutinizing eyes filling jinyoung with the urge to lock himself in the bedroom to prevent his dark circles, crumpled clothes (side effects of tossing and turning) and zombie-like movements from being judged by the older, who is  _ definitely _ not in the best mood right now.

 

“i don't think it's a very good one for you either,” spits jinyoung. he takes a long sip of coffee, the hot liquid burning his throat. “are you going to talk to him or what?”

 

jaebum scrunches up his face like he's drinking coffee with too much sugar in it—jaebum doesn't like sugar in his coffee, and jinyoung has often asked him if it's because he seems to prefer torturing his taste buds instead. “talk to who?”

 

“i can't deal with this bullshit first thing in the morning,” sighs jinyoung tiredly, slamming his empty cup down on the counter, the caffeine slowly seeping into his sluggish senses. “choi. young. jae. are you going to talk to him? apologize maybe, if you have the dignity?”

 

“why do you just automatically assume that it's my fault?” jaebum jumps off the counter, the sting of offense embedded in his tone.

 

“i don't  _ assume _ , i  _ know _ it's your fault,” deadpans jinyoung. “you were the one acting like a jealous asshole, not him.”

 

“i'm sorry, would you be okay with your boyfriend looking at another person with stars in their eyes?” a scowl is etched into jaebum’s features, and his eyes look like they're housing hurricanes.

 

“no, but in your case, it’s like being jealous of someone's fucking love for their idol—baseless and unjustified,” replies jinyoung calmly. he sighs again. “come on, you know he doesn't like jackson like that.”

 

“you're allowed to be jealous of someone's love for their idol if their idol is part of their immediate surroundings and gets along  _ fabulously _ ”—jaebum pauses to roll his eyes at the word, because it's one of jackson’s trademarks—“with them.”

 

jinyoung makes a noise from the back of his throat, a mixture of annoyance and frustration. “you're jealous for no fucking reason. you know the last thing youngjae would do is dump you for jackson.”

 

“of course he wouldn't! he's too nice to! he's too clueless to realize that what he isn’t doing might be hurting people more than what he  _ does  _ do!” exclaims jaebum, slamming his cup down on the table in a manner similar to jinyoung’s. 

 

jinyoung flinches at the sound, before his expression melts into a cold mask of wrath that's too intense to showcase in one expression. “don’t talk about youngjae that way.”

 

and he walks away.

 

his head is pounding. he can't believe they're in this situation. he knows that jaebum gets jealous easily, he's been on the receiving end of the rage before, but this involves youngjae, so it's different. he feels like this is unfair. he doesn't get why life has to dump all kinds of problems on him in one shot.

 

they get ready for college in silence, and spend the car ride to college in equally unsettling silence. just as they're parking in the lot outside the gates, jinyoung puts a hand on jaebum’s arm. “if you care about me, about me not overthinking myself to the depths of fatigue, and if you care about jae,  you _ will _ talk to him. you will do something about this.” guilt isn't the ravenet’s preferred method of offense, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

 

youngjae is waiting for them under the tree right beyond the gates, the way he does every morning. he smiles, but it's directed at jinyoung alone, and it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

 

they have awful, stunted conservation all the way until they're near the literature department, and then jinyoung turns to the other two, finally losing his patience. “can you guys just stop?”

 

_ stop hurting me like this. _

_ stop hurting you like this. _

_ stop hurting us like this. _

_ we’re best friends. _

_ all of us. _

_ we’re supposed to get along. _

 

youngjae tilts his head in confusion. “stop what?” he asks innocently. 

 

  1. _not you._



_ don’t do this. _

 

jinyoung wants to yell and scream at the wind, because he’d never find it in himself to do the same to youngjae. “just. fucking. stop,” he grits out angrily. “stop. being. like. this.”

 

“i don’t get what you’re saying, hyung,” says youngjae in a flat voice. jaebum is looking at jinyoung like it’s taking all in him not to look away, like he’s watching a try not to cringe challenge or something. his eyes are narrowed, his lips are pressed together almost painfully, and there’s a stiffness to his posture.

 

“we’re not playing this game.” jinyoung’s voice comes out breathy, a sign that he’s doing all he can to not explode into frustrated tears. it used to be a habit of his in school, and he thought he’d gotten rid of it. “can you at least admit that there is something wrong here?”

 

_ please. _

_ agree with me now. _

_ then we can just solve things. _

_ and then we can move on. _

_ don’t make this difficult. _

 

“uh, like what?” youngjae’s tone screams  _ i dare you to fucking say it _ .

 

jinyoung accepts the dare, looking the blond right in the eye, voice dead and cold as he says his next words. “i’m talking about the fact that he”—he gestures plainly to jaebum, who flinches slightly—“is your boyfriend and you’re not even looking at him.”

 

youngjae’s mouth drops open, but he shuts it firmly, determined glare suddenly intensifying and shifting from jinyoung to jaebum. he barely looks at jaebum for a second, turning back to jinyoung and saying in the quietest, coldest voice he can manage. “what boyfriend?”

 

_ what. _

_ no. _

_ no, no, no. _

_ this wasn’t supposed to go this way. _

 

he’s walking away before the words register in either jinyoung’s or jaebum’s brains. the younger of the two is the first one to react. “hey, jae. jae! choi youngjae!” but the younger just yells “just don’t!” in response, the quiver in his voice audible despite the slowly increasing distance between them. jaebum’s staring at the ground blank-eyed, lips slightly parted in unpleasant surprise. 

 

jinyoung bursts into tears—salty, hot droplets that streak down his face and fall onto his jacket. his fists clench at his sides, and he’s biting his teeth, breaths bursting out of him in angry spurts between sobs. jaebum takes a step towards him and pulls jinyoung’s head onto his shoulder, his eyes doing a quick check around them to see whether anyone’s watching. they are earlier than usual, so there aren’t more than a few students making their way to their classes, not caring to stop and wonder about the weird scene going on right outside the side door of the literature building.

 

jaebum’s hand is at the back of jinyoung’s neck, thumb brushing soothingly at the strands of dark black hair as jinyoung hits his fist against jaebum’s chest repeatedly, his tears soaking the older’s tee. jaebum and youngjae are jinyoung’s entire world, and he can’t deal with this.  _ not now, not ever. _

 

“you’re going to do something about this, you  _ have _ to do something about this,” chokes out jinyoung, frustration and helplessness washed away in his tears to leave nothing but resentment. “i fucking hate you, i really do.”

 

jaebum takes the hits to his chest acceptingly, knowing that jinyoung doesn’t mean that, that he wouldn’t ever mean it in a million years, but at this moment, he actually wishes it was true, because he feels like the worst person in the world. “i know,” he whispers. “i do too.”

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sHITE.  
> also, i'd like to apologize for sounding bitter in the notes of the last chapter, i was going through a difficult time, but i'm back now and i hope i didn't ruin any of your days by complaining about my problems. i love this story, and i never feel pressured into updating, and some of you left such sweet things in the comments. i seriously don't deserve any of you. *sends love to every single one of you*  
> also, what do you think is going to happen next? on all fronts, because i can't specify. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**_—1 MARCH_ **

**_8:05_ **

  
  


“...and your exams will be taking place this semester, in two months.”

 

that news should not be a surprise to mark, but it still causes an unpleasant jolt in his stomach. he knew that his entrance exams for his master’s degree are coming up this semester, because that’s all that his classmates have been obsessing about over the last one year. he’s been preparing too, but evidently not at the level of some of his peers. the girl to his left responds to the teacher’s question of whether she is ready with, “i was born ready.”

 

it suddenly strikes mark how short a period two months is. he doesn’t have much time left, and judging by the size of the books that he bought (online, second hand...probably third-hand) to prepare, he still has a  _ lot _ to cover. suddenly, he feels the need to yell into a pillow. he needs to crack that exam. not just because n.u.a.s.t. is the best university for his master’s degree, but also because he wants to stay a little longer.

 

he wants to keep sharing a dorm with jackson, waking up to inhuman screaming about missing striped ties every morning. he wants to keep working (read:  _ doing nothing _ ) at café 247 and making bad jokes with junmyeon and kunpimook while yugyeom facepalms. he wants to take naps and eat chocolate ice cream and spend hours just being with jinyoung. hopefully that _ being _ will one day be used in its form with the implication instead of in its plain literal form. 

 

and despite the fact that he'll one day have to face it, he can't imagine a life without all that.

 

just not yet.

 

==

 

**_—1 MARCH_ **

**_7:59_ **

  
  


jinyoung cannot make his legs move. he swears, he cannot.

 

he's standing outside his global literature classroom, wondering how to force himself to enter the damn room. his tears have long since dried, he looks absolutely fine (and feels absolutely  _ not _ ) and class will start in one minute.

 

yet he can't seem to find out how his motor muscles work, because behind that door sits the very boy who pushed jinyoung’s feelings away with a very firm _ no thank you _ .

 

jinyoung can't bear the thought of even  _ looking _ at shinhyeo’s face. he wants to run away. far, far away.

 

_ maybe running away would actually be a good idea. _

_ should you? _

_ maybe make my way to the usa, maybe try to find j _ —

_ what the fuck is wrong with you. _

_ you can't run away. _

_ you can't face shinhyeo. _

_ you have to run. _

_ but you can't skip the first class of the semester. _

_ you. cannot. face. shinhyeo. _

_ he’s going to humiliate you. _

_ he would've told everyone. _

_ holy fuck, what if he found out that you’re supposed to be mark’s boyfriend? _

_ he probably thinks you’re some kind of sicko. _

_ a cheater. _

_ a liar. _

_ as if he needed any more reasons to add to the list of ‘why to _ not _ date park jinyoung’. _

_ he thinks you’re a fucking loser. _

_ and now probably everyone does. _

_ why have you lost the ability to move? _

 

jinyoung takes a shaky breath, trying to loosen the tight knot in his chest that’s increasing his breathing rate. the color has drained out of his face and he can feel a headache coming on. the backs of his eyes burn and his vision goes blurry for a second before returning to normal.

 

jaebum had warned him that this would happen—that jinyoung would freeze, forget the concept of thinking rationally and just think himself into running away.  _ what had he said to do?  _ the ravenet tries to quieten the voices in his head, whose pitches are steadily rising and merging into white noise.

 

_ breathe. think. _

_ recall the last conversation you had. _

_ uh… _

_ okay, maybe not that one. _

_ the last rational conversation you had. _

_ what do you have to do this weekend? _

_ sell the car and buy bicycles. _

_ why? _

_ because jaebum felt too affected by some of the pollution near his house and came back with a vengeance to reduce his carbon footprint. _

_ what is 69 x 69? _

_ 4761. _

_ why is this funny? _

_ because it's the only multiplication that jaebum could do in his head for the entire second year of high school. _

_ okay. put your hand out and open the door. _

_ okay—WHAT?! _

 

“good morning, mr. park, i was afraid you weren't going to show up.” professor kang gives him her usual dimpled grin. she's always perky on the first day after a break, but her temper steadily worsens as the days goes by. luckily, her teaching doesn't deteriorate the same way. “have a seat, we were just about to start.”

 

jinyoung takes a quick glance around the class, eyes not focused on the people sitting at the desks but on the desks themselves. he spots three seats empty. one is next to shinhyeo, and one is at the front of the class, so jinyoung naturally chooses his last option, which is the desk next to a girl he's never heard talk in the years he’s been the same classes as her.

 

he breathes a sigh of relief, the knot in his chest loosening by a huge margin with the exhale.

 

_ you made it. _

 

—

 

— **_1 MARCH_ **

**_16:06_ **

  
  


“you're late.”

 

jinyoung flinches, freezing in his tracks. he honestly thought that he could make it behind the counter without being detected. “sorry, minseok-sshi,” he squeaks, dropping into a ninety degree bow. he'd like to add that in his defense, he's only six minutes late, but he found out a long time ago that excuses never work on his boss.

 

“this better not happen a fifteenth time,” warns minseok, peering over his wire-rimmed glasses. jinyoung nods quickly, embarrassed that he's probably going to be the first employee to reach fifteen late entrances. jongdae is at three, mina at eleven, jeongyeon and sehun each at eight, and youngjae at zero. jinyoung being the first to reach fifteen means that they’ll all owe youngjae five dollars each.

 

“it won't, hyung,” murmurs jinyoung, bowing once again. jongdae chuckles at the scene from one of the aisles in jinyoung’s line of sight, muttering something under his breath. jinyoung guesses that it's probably about how  _ park jinyoung is such a little brat who will somehow stop questioning authority only when it's the highest authority in question and is kim jongdae’s authority not enough for him to stop acting like he owns the place? _

 

jinyoung never bothers to correct him during the times when jongdae answers the question himself with a resolute _ no _ . jinyoung lives by the sentence ‘i must not tell lies’, after all. jongdae will never forget the time when jinyoung wrote down those words on his wrist in red ink, accused him of being umbridge’s successor, and blew up one of the weasleys’ wizard wheezes crackers in his face. (he was fine. it was just a fancily packaged party popper, but minseok—who, as jinyoung never fails to remind his coworkers, was supposed to be on break—lost his shit.) jinyoung had been banned from the harry potter section for a month after that, and that's probably why he hasn't pulled anything like that since.

 

“you can go help youngjae—he’s at the back creating the window display for next week. we got a new shipment in, and you know i don't trust anyone with anything unless there are two people i can blame if anything goes wrong.” jinyoung nods obediently, marveling as minseok’s cold exterior melts away into a bright grin as a customer approaches the counter.

 

he scurries away quickly, joining youngjae in the musty-smelling back room. youngjae is setting up an simple display with the merchandise scattered around him, a stark contrast to the intricate displays that jinyoung always sets up. that's probably why minseok always makes them work together. jinyoung never complains, though.

 

“wouldn't it be better if you put the poster there, and put the scarf there? you'd be able to see the logo on the scarf better.” jinyoung would generally start off with a more traditional greeting, but the need for change of placement is so starkly occupying center stage in his mind as he looks at the display that he can't help but voice the idea. 

 

_ great job, jinyoung. even when you’re supposed to comfort, you criticize. _

_ that doesn’t negate the fact that it remains his fault. _

_ you know, that is youngjae. _

_ that doesn’t render him blameless. _

_ for real? _

_ maybe a little blameless, he’s a kid. _

 

youngjae looks up at him with dead eyes and a simple shrug, moving the scarf immediately as per direction. jinyoung’s heart hurts all over again. he'd been absorbed in a new story they have this half of the term for the last couple hours, and that had put jaebum and youngjae out of his mind for a while at least. now looking at youngjae, he's immediately reminded of the problem he has to confront. well, confront indirectly.

 

“how was your day?” starts jinyoung cautiously.

 

“absolutely shitty,” deadpans youngjae, not bothering to elaborate.

 

“ah.” they lapse into a bit of silence, jinyoung mentally phrasing his sentences. finally, he says slowly, “did you know jealousy is a very complex emotion?” youngjae looks up at him with eyes that reflect a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, but doesn’t say anything, so jinyoung thinks it’s okay to continue. “anger is often known to cloud out all judgement, but damn, it isn’t really nothing compared to jealousy. jealousy is the emotion that causes anger and a whole bunch of other things. it can drive a person to do crazy things, and it’s basically the root of all evil, so to speak, it’s like—”

 

“what’s your point?” mumbles youngjae, almost inaudibly, cutting jinyoung’s rambling short. 

 

jinyoung’s face crumples into a frown at being interrupted, and then he sighs. “i’m talking about how jealousy often springs from the very opposite of what it ends up creating. jealousy eventually ends in some form of hate, which is ironic because it begins with some form of love, you get what i mean?”

 

youngjae stares at him for a long moment, and then adjusts the scarf back to its original position. “i think it looks better like that,” he explains quietly, noticing jinyoung’s disbelieving raised eyebrows. 

 

“jae, are you listening to me?” asks jinyoung, pausing to lay emphasis on every word. his voice is low and measured, like he’s exhausting all his patience for this conversation. he is.

 

youngjae nods. “yes, i know the logo shows better that way, but this is better for the setup, no?”

 

jinyoung shakes his head. “you and jaebum, i swear. you two try so hard to avoid a subject but you just don’t get that that shit doesn’t work on me, do you? we are having a conversation about this, whether you like it or not.”

 

“really? because like you always say, you can’t have a conversation unless there are two people participating. otherwise it just becomes a monolog.” jinyoung reels from the realization that youngjae actually listened when he used to say that, and youngjae goes on. “i don’t want to talk about it. there’s nothing to talk about it.”

 

“okay, you don’t have to talk,” says jinyoung evenly, taking a deep breath. he starts unconsciously picking at his cuticles, biting his lip when his thumb suddenly stings, meaning for sure that he’s pulled his cuticle too hard and it’s probably bleeding now. he doesn’t check though, instead folding his hands in front of him and holding his thumb between his forefinger and other thumb. “but you have to understand that the way he acted, it was because he just really likes you.”

 

“who is  _ he _ , hyung?” youngjae quirks an eyebrow, and it would be almost teasing if his eyes didn’t look so dull. “you could be referring to anyone. a serial killer, my chemistry teacher—”

 

jinyoung smacks his palm to his forehead. it feels like an eternity since they had that conversation. “are you actually fucking serious right now.”

 

youngjae hums absentmindedly in response, pinning different badges onto a board and shifting them around, trying to see which one fits where. jinyoung pulls one badge that he’s struggling to place from him and places it at the center of the board. youngjae shrugs. he goes to pick up another badge, but jinyoung slaps his hand away.

 

youngjae hisses, and jinyoung simply says calmly, “we’re talking about im jaebum, your boyfriend.” youngjae opens his mouth to argue, but jinyoung barrells on quickly, “don’t you dare contradict me here. hear me out.” he uses one of his dangerous glares and youngjae shuts his mouth. “right. everything i say right now is going to sound a little overused, okay?”

 

“if it’s overused, why say it?” mutters youngjae, fiddling with the badges on the board, just to have something to do with his hands. 

 

jinyoung sighs, because he's not a huge fan of this version of youngjae. “just because everyone uses it doesn’t mean it’s not true. and yeah, maybe people use this as a substitute when they don’t know what to say, and it’s hard to believe a lot of advice because advice, more times than not, sounds like bullshit. but trust me when i say this. you’re not going to get anywhere in any relationship if you think that everything is going to be smooth sailing, okay?”

 

youngjae’s eyes dart around, looking anywhere but jinyoung’s face. he suddenly freezes, and when jinyoung looks over his shoulder, he can feel minseok’s gaze on them through the open door, so he reluctantly lets youngjae pick up more badges to organise and drops his already-low voice by a couple notches.

 

“look, you can’t just meet someone and just expect to get along with them without the slightest disagreement, okay?” jinyoung almost rolls his eyes at the hypocrisy of his own statement because the fact remains that he and youngjae have never once fought in their lives. even then, jinyoung guesses it wouldn’t have been the same case if he hadn’t been as doting and obliging towards youngjae.

 

“i don’t expect that, okay?” snaps youngjae, unrolling a poster. “i just expect a certain level of rationality.”

 

_ ‘rationality’. damn, my baby’s grown up.  _ “i’m not saying he’s right to get jealous, okay? i’m just saying that it started because he likes you. a little too much in my opinion, so much that i’m doubting i can use the term  _ like _ in this context anymore. he’ll apologize, i’ll bet my ass on that, but you’ll need to hear him out,  _ talk  _ it out. hold a fricking conversation, not like what we’re doing now. if he’s insecure, explain why he shouldn’t be. maybe next time, tone down your hero-worship a bit when he’s there. talk it out, like the adults you two are supposed to be.”

 

youngjae doesn’t respond.

 

“please. for your own sake,” pleads jinyoung. 

 

_ for all our sakes.  _

_ i need my best friends back. _

 

still no response, but jinyoung thinks he can see the younger’s blond mop bob the slightest amount. he chooses not to say anything from that point, helping with the rest of the display without contradicting anything that youngjae does. they work in silence for about an hour, and then minseok assigns them more work. youngjae goes to help the customers, turning on his grin of sunshine and perkily bounding from one person to another, asking if they’d like his help with anything. jinyoung, on the other hand, gets handed a calculator and faces the monotonous task of organizing the account books for the month. he guesses that it’s minseok’s revenge over his late entrance.

 

around seven-thirty, sehun and mina return from their half-hour off, meaning that youngjae and jinyoung can leave for dinner and a small chat. youngjae has to fetch his coat from the back room so jinyoung steps outside to wait for him, only to run right into a very familiar brunet.

 

“oh! pardon m—” jinyoung blinks once. twice. thrice. his face breaks into a huge grin. “you came!”

 

“did you really expect me not to?” asks jaebum, his tone a balance of serious and teasing. he takes a deep breath. “you almost gave me a heart attack. i thought youngjae was going to be with you.” jinyoung looks down and notices that jaebum’s hands are literally shaking. jaebum stuffs his hands into his pocket at jinyoung’s judging look.

 

“you need to chill, hyung,” says jinyoung. he places his hand on jaebum’s shoulder comfortingly. “you know what to say?”

 

“been rehearsing all day,” declares jaebum, his tone coated with something closely resembling pride. jinyoung doesn’t see how he has anything to be proud of, considering he landed himself in this very situation in the first place, but he chooses to not comment on that.

 

“just...stick to the script, okay? no wandering off the script. not snapping, no snippy remarks, none of that. keep in mind that you’re the one in the wrong,” instructs jinyoung firmly, wagging a condescending finger at jaebum.

 

“great pep talk skills, jinyoung-ah,” mutters jaebum under his breath, attempting to make it quiet enough that jinyoung doesn’t hear the comment, but failing miserably.

 

“it’s not a pep talk, it’s the truth. i’d consider myself a fucking awful best friend if i couldn’t tell you the truth.” jinyoung nods once more and a blast of warm air hits him in the back as the door to merch n’more opens once more, youngjae stepping onto the cold grey sidewalk in an equally grey coat. jinyoung remembers when youngjae got that coat. youngjae had wanted to get a pastel color to complement his personality, but jinyoung had reminded him that too much sunshine might blind a person.

 

there’s a tense moment as youngjae’s eyes flick between the two older males, his eyes finally coming to rest on jinyoung’s face, his eyes filled with a questioning helplessness. jinyoung flicks his head slightly in jaebum’s direction, prompting the younger. youngjae looks like he’s going to run away for a second, but then he turns to jaebum. jinyoung feels a ridiculous amount of pride.

 

“i was wondering if i could talk to you...?” the amount of tentativeness in jaebum’s tone seems to give youngjae a bit of confidence, knowing that he’s the one with the upper hand here, so his posture straightens by just the slightest amount.

 

there’s a small second of silence when jinyoung’s chest feels tight. youngjae is known to be unpredictable, and if the boy actually decides to run away, jinyoung would be disappointed, but not surprised.

 

but then he nods, and jinyoung can breathe again.

 

as long as jaebum doesn’t screw up, they should all be fine.

 

it would be nice to be fine for a change.

 

==

 

**_—1 MARCH_ **

**_19:36_ **

  
  


the tension in the air is slowly killing youngjae.

 

very slowly and very painfully. like a corkscrew being twisted into his neck. (jinyoung shouldn't have ever told him the story of the book  _ the girl on the train _ .) he swears, if jaebum doesn't say anything in the next three seconds, he's going to—

 

“so…” jaebum clears his throat. youngjae can see jaebum looking at him in his peripheral vision as they walk down the street, footsteps slow and extra-steady, like each step is an assurance that at least the physical ground is not at risk of giving out under them. he chooses to keep his eyes fixed ahead, thinking that he at least has to make it look a  _ little  _ bit like it's a struggle for him to forgive jaebum.

 

“how many different ways can you put the words, ‘i'm sorry’?” chuckles jaebum humorlessly, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. he's wearing a black one today, and a matching beanie is pulled over his hair. youngjae loves it when jaebum wears beanies because he has a knack of looking way too beautiful in them. maybe that’s just youngjae being biased, but he doesn’t care.

 

“you know, it doesn't matter what jinyoung hyung says. there's still meaning to the words if you give it to them,” remarks youngjae solemnly, quoting a lyric from a song he’s been writing. (the jinyoung part of it is not part of the lyric, though.)

 

“then would you believe me if i said i was sorry?” asks jaebum, his footsteps slowing to a stop.

 

“sorry for what?” youngjae raises his eyebrows, turning to face jaebum but not quite meeting his eyes yet. he needs to hear it. he needs jaebum to say it out loud so there’s no ambiguity, no space left for misunderstandings, nothing but absolute clarity, confirmation that they’re on the same page.

 

“i'm sorry for…” jaebum’s face is scrunched up like it's causing him physical pain to get the words out, but he keeps going with the perseverance of a runner who's spotted the finish line. “i'm sorry for being jealous of jackson. you're your own person, and you'll obviously have your own friends, and i don't have any say in dictating who you should talk to, and i'm sorry that i acted like an asshole. i’m sorry i doubted you.”

 

“i don't like negative emotions,” says youngjae simply, lips set in a line, holding his emotions in. “i like to keep things simple, and whenever possible, positive. that being said, i probably shouldn't have reacted the way i did.”

 

there's a tinge of relief on jaebum’s face, his shoulders relaxing now that he's got the more difficult words off his chest. “no, i get it. the whole sunshine gig and stuff.”

 

“yeah, that.” there's a beat of silence, and youngjae feels a little disconnected from the situation, like he's in some kind of lucid dream or something. the anticipation of something huge and unexplainable begins building in the space between them, and he decides to say something before it gets too large for them to handle. 

 

youngjae breaks the silence. “you know, you really have no reason to be jealous.” a pause, and jaebum’s looking at the ground, a bashful half-smile on his face. “so there’s really no reason for that to happen again, is there?” there's no point of asking a question when the answer is known, but youngjae believes you need to see it to believe it. or rather, in this case, hear it.

 

jaebum’s head whips up, looking stung. “of course not!”

 

“i know, i know.” youngjae lets out a little laugh, his eyes curving into crescents and almost disappearing. that’s all the closure he needs. he pokes jaebum playfully in the ribs. “like me so much that you get jealous over me?” his heartbeat gets exponentially erratic at voicing the thought out loud, and even more so since jaebum’s smiling his fond smile, the one that jinyoung always makes fun of him for because it makes its appearance so rarely (more often these days though, according to jinyoung), and blurts out, “i love you.”

 

it's said with confidence, absoluteness, finality, as jinyoung would put it. nothing like the awkward mumble of “d-dya wanna go out with me?” from the initial confession a while ago. it's said in a way that leaves absolutely no doubt whether any part of that three-word sentence is true. youngjae thinks he should be surprised at that sentence, but he's really not. he thinks there's some part of him that knew that jaebum loved him all along. he thinks something must have tipped him off somewhere along the way.

 

a crush? obviously, otherwise he wouldn't have asked him out. but love? youngjae had set himself up for this without knowing, because something of a reply is forming at the back of his mind, and the last thing the set of words are is negative, and he thinks he’s been meaning to say it himself for a while. somehow, the words to explain his inexplicably deep attachment to jaebum—complete with glitchy heart and weak knees and the feeling of being safe and happy—have been found, but only now.

 

jaebum’s eyes widen like he just realized he said that, but he doesn't look anywhere close to taking those words back. “you don’t have to say that back—”

 

youngjae takes an unsteady step forward, not quite registering it. “what if i want to?” he says defiantly, eyebrows raised and challenging. he wants to, he really wants to. he wants to sing it, goddammnit. he could write an entire song without thinking right now.

 

jaebum leans forward slightly, his face centimeters away from the younger’s. his smile is almost teasing. “if you want to, why would i stop you?”

 

if youngjae’s mind typed out whatever he thought about, the only output at the moment would be a series of key-smashes, interspersed with a couple yells of ‘IT’S HAPPENING’.

 

they meet somewhere in the middle, jaebum’s arms pulling youngjae in until there's no space left between them, holding him in a way that clearly tells him how much he missed him, even if it was just a day. the older’s hands fumble with the hood of youngjae’s jacket, pulling it over youngjae’s head. youngjae feels like he's about to spontaneously implode, because it’s been a while since he kissed jaebum—like, properly kissed jaebum—and he never realized how much he missed it until this very moment. 

 

and he realizes how close he was to throwing all of this away, and relief joins the palette of emotions coloring his heart.

 

jaebum is the first to pull away, his arms still wrapped around youngjae, whose eyes remain closed as his head falls onto jaebum’s shoulder, white noise comprising his thoughts and stomach feeling like he’s falling from the crest of a rollercoaster. his hands bunch up the fabric comprising the back of jaebum’s hoodie, and he doesn’t think he’s going to let go for sometime.

 

he shifts his head slightly upwards, whispering, “we're in public.” the magnitude of the situation just begins to sink in, because supposedly straight boy choi youngjae just kissed his boyfriend on the sidewalk of one of the streets where they're most likely to run into a fellow college-mate. luckily, no one who passes by is recognizable or possessing enough time or care to stop, stare and judge the two.

 

“i know, that's why the hoodie thing,” explains jaebum, slightly chuckling, his hand resting protectively on youngjae’s head.

 

“that was rather weightlifting-fairy-kim-bokjoo-esque. did you actually watch those clips i sent to you and jinyoung hyung?” giggles youngjae, nuzzling his head into jaebum’s chest. he’d spammed both the older males over the holidays, when he was at the peak of his obsession phase, but he hadn’t expected them to actually watch the videos.

 

“maybe…?” jaebum’s laugh is a little embarrassed, but his heart is beating so fast that youngjae can hear his heartbeat through the hoodie. it makes him feel a little giddy. it reminds him that he’s loved.

 

youngjae laughs, a laugh that is freed, liberated, happy beyond measure, looking up at the older. “oh, by the way, i love you t—”

 

jaebum suddenly cuts him off as their lips quickly come into contact again and youngjae starts, but obviously doesn't object. there's something between a smile and a smirk on jaebum’s face as he pulls away, and youngjae thinks it's probably the most attractive thing he’s ever seen.

 

“the only reason i’d stop you is if i needed to do that.”

 

“don't ever stop stopping me, then.”

 

==

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2jae's problems have been solved !! surely you didn't think i would let them suffer for long lmao :)  
> the last chap was for han so this one's for lau, who is my partner in soft crime <3 ( also how dare you with that um update i died how dare you how dare you how dare you give me this much happiness )  
> also btw i tend to drop names a lot so don't worry if you can't remember who jinyoung works with and stuff because they ain't important  
> also if you haven't watched weightlifting fairy kim bokjoo you are missing out so go !! watch !! it !!  
> for those of you who are here only for markjin, do not worry !! we shall be getting back to our dear protagonists next chap :))


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update !! make sure you read the previous chapter first, loves :-)

**_—2 MARCH_ **

**_1:42_ **

  
  


jinyoung lies in the bottom bunk, wondering how many times he's stared up at the exact same mattress.

 

he could probably identify every thread of the mattress. he pokes idly between the metal crosses of the frame, humming under his breath to distract himself.

 

he thought he'd be able to sleep a full night, knowing that he has his best friends back, but apparently not. there happens to remain one more thing on his mind, one that won't simply go away, no matter how much he tries to distract himself by thinking about his stories. (he stayed up until one writing. he closed the laptop only when his eyes felt like they were going to melt.)

 

won shinhyeo.

 

jinyoung ran into him during lunch hour, when he was heading to the cafeteria. shinhyeo had looked like he wanted to stop and talk to him, but jinyoung had hurried on, eyes scrunched up as all the voices in his head had suddenly decided to imitate an orchestra. the same loop has been running in his head all day.

 

_ why?  _

_ why had he said that i wasn't his type?  _

_ did he think i was too bad a choice for his popularity?  _

_ was i too obvious?  _

_ he couldn't have found out about me and mark being fake boyfriends, that's logically impossible.  _

_ is it the way i look?  _

_ is it because i’m not all that funny?  _

_ is it because i lack a particular quality?  _

_ is it because i’m...me?  _

_ why would he say that?  _

_ why, why, why… _

 

the front door clicks, and jinyoung turns on his side, doing his best imitation of a person who is fast asleep. the bedroom door opens and jaebum walks in, his shift at the club over for the night.

 

jinyoung can hear the disapproving click of jaebum’s tongue, the annoyed, “go to sleep, you idiot,” and he knows he's not fooling anyone, but he continues with the charade anyway.

 

jaebum climbs the ladder up into his bunk, pausing a step up to aim a kick at jinyoung’s ass. jinyoung silently rolls his eyes, but doesn't react in any noticeable way, and though he isn't facing him, he can just about see jaebum shaking his head.

 

it's about thirteen minutes before jinyoung is sure that jaebum has fallen asleep, and about seven more before he figures that it's safe enough to sneak out of the room. jaebum’s always been a heavy sleeper—nothing like youngjae, but still—so it's easy enough.

 

he runs his fingers through his hair distractedly as he searches for his literature notebook in his backpack. his original plan was to finish the work in the morning, but since he's up now, it doesn't make sense to postpone it any longer. but the silence is too loud, and he can't concentrate. with a half-hearted sigh, he picks up his key, locking the door as he leaves.

 

he kind of figured it'd turn out this way.

 

the merry little bell over the door of the café announces his arrival. there are a few others here besides himself, some adults and some students, with a variety of devices in front of them. he figures that he isn't the only one who comes to this place for a bit of peace in the middle of the night, only his bringer of peace has a slightly different form.

 

junmyeon is manning the cash register as he approaches it, and smiles at him when he walks up. junmyeon calls over his shoulder for mark, who’s disassembling one of the pieces of complicated coffee-dispensing machinery with bambam.

 

“you wanna take this one?” junmyeon addresses mark, head tilting slightly in jinyoung’s direction, a small smile playing on his lips. jinyoung smiles and waves. mark’s eyes widen, and then his face collapses into a frown, which is quite the contrary reaction to what jinyoung was expecting.

 

junmyeon walks away to let mark take his place, exchanging a wink with bambam. jinyoung’s used to this by now—compared to the bullshit that he deals with on campus, junmyeon’s and bambam's silent teasing is basically nothing.

 

“what are you doing here?” mark’s voice is low. jinyoung furrows his eyebrows. what did he mean by that? jinyoung was probably café 247’s most frequent visitor, at least of the last two weeks.

 

“should i not be here?” he asks slowly, his tone low-key incredulous. “what, do you have some other fake boyfriends i don't know about?” it’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a part of him that’s now wondering if there’s anyone who actually appreciates his presence.

 

the small tinge of hurt in jinyoung’s eyes is probably what makes mark realize that he sounded a little bit harsh. he backtracks quickly, his voice softening exponentially. “no,” he smiles, “but you should be sleeping, not coming to check whether i'm being faithful in the middle of the night.”

 

“i couldn't sleep.” the words leave jinyoung’s mouth sounding so overused that it almost scares him. mark doesn’t say anything, so jinyoung continues, his words turning slightly huffy. “are you just going to kick me out? i came to order one espresso, please.”

 

mark shakes his head like he's been dealing with this shit his whole life, and then says, “one second.” then he calls over his shoulder. “junmyeon hyung?”

 

the addressed looks up, eyebrows raised and expression questioning. “what's up?”

 

“could i cash in all my breaks for this week right now?” jinyoung frowns, opening his mouth to ask why mark would ask something like that, only to have mark reach out and put his hand over jinyoung’s mouth, denying him the privilege of speech.

 

“all of them?” confirms junmyeon, expression conveying amusement. mark has often mentioned to jinyoung that being on night shift is like taking a constant break, so it comes as a slight surprise to jinyoung that they actually have the concept of designated break time.

 

“yeah, could i?”

 

junmyeon shrugs. “if you want. bam and i can manage here. why don’t you just cash in half your breaks?”

 

“how much time would that get me?” asks mark. jinyoung has taken mark's hand off his mouth, opting to watch the older quietly instead. where is this going? he has no clue.

 

“half an hour, i guess?” junmyeon shrugs again, waving a hand as mark brightens. “i don’t even know how much break i give you guys. just go knock yourself out, kid.”

 

“thanks, hyung!” mark bows quickly, and then runs to the back, leaving jinyoung standing there uselessly, tapping his fingers against the marble counter and wondering where the fuck mark is going with this. mark quickly returns, rid of his apron and clutching his keys in his hand.

 

“what are you doing?” asks jinyoung as mark pushes him out the door.

 

“i’m taking you home,” explains mark, clicking the button on his key and unlocking the car. “you need to go to sleep, because you don’t work on a nocturnal schedule like i do, meaning that if you don’t get enough sleep, you’re going to walk through the next day like a zombie.”

 

“it’s just a reaction to...you know what!” jinyoung gestures helplessly with his hands, and mark stops walking to turn and face him. his expression holds something between exasperation and sympathy, and he looks like he just wants to protect jinyoung from the world, but he also needs jinyoung to grow up a little bit.

 

“and why are you giving him the power to dictate how you react?” mark narrows his eyes as he asks the question, his lips pressed together in a firm line as he waits for jinyoung to give him an answer.

 

jinyoung doesn’t have an answer.

 

_ because he's won shinhyeo.  _

_ because sometimes a system can't function properly for a while if its center collapses on itself. _

_ because. _

 

he protests weakly, “come on, you can’t expect me to just move on with my life after i was in love with that boy for two years—”

 

“ _ look _ ,” mark sounds so serious that jinyoung’s mouth shuts abruptly, startled. he's never known mark to sound that serious, not in all the sixteen days he's known him. the second part of that sentence probably confirms why, but moving on. “it doesn’t count as love if you barely knew him, okay?”

 

“why can’t you give me some time to just let my emotions go through me so they can leave? then i’ll be free of the negativity!” jinyoung drags his hands down his face tiredly, topping off the protest with a loud sigh.

 

“you’re giving him too much power over you,” says mark simply, looking jinyoung dead in the eye, gaze so intense that jinyoung wants to shield his eyes. “you’re giving him the power to tell you what to feel, and that’s not what you want to do. you need to get back on your feet, and live the hell out of life, because goddamn, happiness is the best fucking revenge!”

 

jinyoung’s expression transitions from surprised to amused. “did you just say ‘live the hell out of life’? because that’s one of the weirdest expressions i’ve even heard.”

 

mark looks stunned for a second, and he lets out a laugh after registering the question, his stern expression breaking as he shoves jinyoung’s chest. jinyoung smiles bemusedly, but mark just shoves him again. once he’s done laughing, he decides to continue on his give-away-advice-like-i’ve-been-doing-this-all-my-life spree. “all you need to do is move on.”

 

jinyoung looks at him for a long moment before saying, “it sounds easy, but it really isn’t, you know. sometimes you just can’t.” his voice sounds like that of a man who is trying to hold up a ceiling that’s coming down on him.

 

“i know,” says mark flatly. the emotion in the words itself, or lack thereof, screams _ PERSONAL EXPERIENCE, _ and jinyoung’s curiosity is piqued.  _ this is interesting. what am i missing here? _

 

“oh?” jinyoung’s eyebrows fly upwards. “and how?”

 

“you know you’re not the only one who suffers from the hard-hitting effects of feelings, right?” mark shakes his head faux-condescendingly. “all of us have tragic backstories that we’ll narrate to our grandchildren about fifty years from now.” after a thought, he adds, “some of us have more than one.”

 

“can i hear yours?” asks jinyoung softly. they should be on a sufficient level of trust, right? they've played each other’s boyfriends, slept in the same bed way too often, been through a post-break-up party together, and basically know way too much about each other either way, so what difference does one more personal fact make?

 

mark smiles sadly, and then he shakes his head. jinyoung opens his mouth because  _ what the fuck, did he just say no—, _ but the older cuts him off. “i’ll tell you, i swear. just not today. i need to get you home. get in the car, loser.”

 

there's an itch at the back of jinyoung’s mind, the kind he gets about unfilled blanks. and not just one of them. he pauses for a second, waiting for mark to go on. when mark doesn’t, jinyoung whines, “but you have to finish the reference!”

 

“but we’re not going shopping!” chuckles mark, getting into the car from the driver’s side. jinyoung rolls his eyes and gets into the shotgun seat.

 

the ride back to jinyoung’s apartment is almost completely silent, but not in an awkward way. jinyoung asks mark about his exams, and mark asks jinyoung about what the difference between an elision and an allusion is, because he’s shit at figuring out poetic devices and this time the course he’s taken has to do a lot with poems, and he’s been struggling since the beginning of the semester. the ride is short, and they’re there before they know it. thank god, otherwise jinyoung thinks he would’ve fallen asleep if he had to undergo the soothing moving-car-feeling any longer. that would’ve have been weak on his part, and quite frankly, embarrassing.

 

jinyoung’s hand freezes when the key is halfway to the lock on the door. he doesn’t want to go back in, because he knows he won’t be able to fall asleep. he doesn't see the point in even attempting to go to sleep because he knows that the moment there is silence, the voices in his head will scramble to fill it.

 

“do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?” 

 

jinyoung whips his head to the side so fast that he almost cricks his neck. so preoccupied with his anxiety, he'd almost forgotten that mark was there. he blinks like a deer caught in headlights, and mark simply nods, like he doesn't need verbal confirmation.

 

“we could just go back to the café…” begins jinyoung weakly. he doesn't want to be—as banal as it sounds—a burden, but he wants him to stay. there's something comforting about mark’s very presence. like a security blanket, as weird as that comparison may seem.

 

“why do you think i took half an hour off? you're too obvious.” mark rolls his eyes, clapping his hand to jinyoung’s shoulder with a smile.

 

jinyoung wonders why people always tell him that. (the list of _ people _ simply having two names on it.) he is _ not _ obvious. the other person simply knows how to read him too well. he'd signed that off as experience with jaebum. with mark, he starts genuinely doubting whether he really is that obvious.

 

nevertheless, he smiles gratefully, and mark laughs, before remembering how late at night (or rather, early in the morning) it is and clapping a hand to his mouth.

 

jinyoung unlocks the door and they let themselves in, jinyoung shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the couch. he takes his place on the bottom bunk and mark sits on the floor next to the bunk, his face level with the younger’s. jinyoung pats the space next to him, but mark shakes his head, both keeping quiet since jaebum’s asleep on the top bunk.

 

jinyoung fishes his phone and earphones out from under his pillow. he holds them out in front of mark, eyebrows raised in a silent question. they’re in ridiculously close proximity, and that's the only way mark can decipher jinyoung’s expression in the feeble lighting. mark nods, and jinyoung clicks play on the last song he was listening to.

 

a soft melody flows through the headphones, with lyrics sadder than the ending of la la land. mark takes the phone from jinyoung, who frowns and holds out his hand in silent protest.

 

**love is not over — bts [ 0:21 ]**

 

mark holds his index finger up near jinyoung’s face as the younger lunges for his phone again. he plays the next song, frowning and clicking the next button over and over again when he can’t find what he's looking for. jinyoung opens his mouth several times to tell mark to just  _ stop at one song _ , but mark just goes on.

 

**eyes, nose, lips — taeyang [ 0:02]**

**if you — big bang [ 0:01 ]**

**when you’re gone — avril lavigne [ 0:02 ]**

**do you know — enrique iglesias [ 0:01 ]**

**jar of hearts — christina perri [ 0:01 ]**

**dead leaves — bts [ 0:01 ]**

**someone like you — adele [ 0:02 ]**

**paper hearts (cover) — jeongguk [ 0:03 ]**

**stay — blackpink [ 0:01 ]**

 

mark narrows his eyes, as though to say,  _ what the hell, boy, are you trying to get yourself even more blue _ ? jinyoung nods furiously, because the fact does remain that  _ yes _ ,  _ the playlist consists of sad songs on purpose.  _ listening to the misery of other people is what makes jinyoung feel better about his life. he reaches for his phone once more before having his hand slapped away. he pouts and holds his hand to his chest as though wounded, and mark apologetically takes it in his, while simultaneously changing the song to not today by b.t.s.

 

they stay like that for a couple minutes, mark resting his head on one arm on the edge of the bed while his other hand holds jinyoung’s. finally, after jinyoung’s repeated hand-tugging, mark takes the space next to jinyoung, who feels the relieving emotion of familiarity when he throws an arm over the older.

 

something about the familiarity makes jinyoung fall asleep before he even registers it.

 

==

 

**_—2 MARCH_ **

**_2:36_ **

  
  


mark’s easing himself out of jinyoung’s grip, stepping cautiously onto the floor when he accidentally hits his ankle against the edge of the bed.

 

_ fuck. _

 

he checks to see if he's awoken jinyoung, but the boy’s out like a light, and mark exhales slowly with relief. however, there's a sleepy mumble of “jinyoung?” from the top bunk, and mark freezes.

 

_ fuck. _

 

he debates on whether to respond or bolt for the door, but the second option seems to call for a police record, so he chooses to straighten up so he can hoarsely whisper, “not jinyoung. it's me, mark.”

 

“mark? not to be rude, but what the fuck are you doing here?” jaebum turns so that his head is peeking over the railing of the top bunk. his eyes are squinted with sleep and confusion.

 

“look, jinyoung showed up at the café and i just dropped him back, okay? i'm not an creepy undercover serial killer or anything,” explains mark in a hushed voice, shifting from foot to foot restlessly, thinking about how this situation is awkward on so many levels.

 

“you know, if you have to tell someone unprompted that you aren't a serial killer, there's something very messed up about the situation you're in,” chuckles jaebum softly.

 

mark manages a smile. at least jaebum wasn’t taking this  _ too  _ weirdly. “i was leaving anyway.”

 

“if this was the middle of the day, i would offer you some coffee or something, but i really am too tired to get up.”

 

mark waves a hand dismissively.  _ it's been awkward enough already, thank you.  _ “i'm around coffee way too much anyway. sorry for waking you up, jaebum.” he takes a few careful steps towards the door, trying to not bump into anything else. “oh, and maybe, would you like, sleep next to him? he actually manages to sleep when there's someone next to him.”

 

“i have a b—reason to not want to share a bed with him. he's clingy,” whines jaebum.

 

“all right, then next time, maybe notice when your best friend sneaks out in the middle of the night?” mark isn't trying to be rude, it's just that he concerned way more than he should technically be, but at this point he's stopped trying to justify the way he feels about jinyoung.  _ the fact that jinyoung is the subject of concern here is explanation enough. _

 

“i don't have to, i know his boyfriend will bring him back home.” if the room had a light on, mark would've been able to see the teasing evil grin on the other's face.

 

mark blushes, thankful for the darkness. it didn't sound  _ that  _ cringey when he used that term in his head, but hearing jaebum, one of _ jinyoung’s  _ friends, use the term on him just feels fucking weird. “i'm not his boyfriend.”

 

“you can deny it, he can deny it, but the fact remains that you pretty much are.” jaebum shrugs nonchalantly before letting his head flop back onto his pillow. “i approve of you way more than shinhyeo, either way.”

 

mark feels like he just might puke, and he knows it's not because of the syrup-laden shots he was swigging with kunpimook a few hours ago.

 

==

 

**_—4 MARCH_ **

**_11:56_ **

  
  


_ life is acting. _

 

jinyoung recites the words over and over in his head as he patiently waits for class to end. professor kang is assigning them work for the week, and the class is protesting, saying that it's unfair to assign work on a monday morning. jinyoung’s barely registering any of it.

 

he'd been a little unlucky this morning, ending up in class a little late and ending up one seat behind shinhyeo. he's been wishing that he could burn holes in the redhead’s skull with his eyes for the last one hour, and in all honesty, he can't wait to get the fuck out of there.

 

it feels even more awful because he's actually had a pretty good weekend. he has the best friends in the world. youngjae had been over at the apartment the whole of both days, singing songs at the highest volume possible (which was pretty darn high) and laughing so loud at everything that jinyoung couldn't help but join in.  jaebum’s been nicer to him than usual even though the first thing that jinyoung did after waking up saturday morning was piss him off. mark had been busy studying, but he texted jinyoung every couple hours with conversation that didn't require either of them to think, and also took the younger out for ice cream yesterday, just because. 

 

jinyoung had been so busy being reminded of what he  _ did _ have that he didn't have any time to think about what he  _ didn't _ have. at least until now.

 

“...class dismissed.” professor kang has yielded to everyone's demands and told them that she'll assign work later, and jinyoung thanks every star of his as he gets up to put his books into his satchel. he has enough on his mind without unnecessary literature assignments.

 

there's a split second when shinhyeo decides to look behind him at the exact same time that jinyoung decides to aim one last glare at him, which results in awkward eye contact. jinyoung’s heart painfully twinges and he looks away quickly, dropping his gaze to his satchel, face burning.

 

_ if shinhyeo could just disappear... _ jinyoung could complete that sentence in so many positive ways. heartache, he has painfully discovered, does not go away with a bit of medicine, but stays there to remind him of the saddest part of it all at every opportunity possible. he walks quickly out of the classroom, not bothering to look back.

 

_ stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ jinyoung’s face is still scrunched up with a combination of disgust, anger and hurt when he meets jaebum and youngjae at their usual meeting point, a oak tree at the centre of the campus, almost equidistant from their respective departments and not too far from their usual cafetaria. youngjae’s eyebrows are raising higher and higher as jinyoung approaches them, and jinyoung only notices once it’s too late to school his expression into a normal one fast enough so they don’t notice.

 

jaebum simply shakes his head. jinyoung’s eyes burn challengingly. jaebum shakes his head, again, though this time it's more comforting than condescending. “calm the fuck down, i'm just… not going to comment this time.” youngjae and jinyoung look at him with equally surprised expressions, and his mouth drops open, offended, and he whines, “that is possible, okay?”

 

jinyoung grudgingly smiles, rolling his eyes affectionately. “okay. can we go get food now? i'm starving. i can't be good company unless i have food in front of me.”

 

youngjae laughs as he links his arm with jinyoung’s. “you're always good company, hyung.”

 

“stahp!” giggles jinyoung, batting the younger’s arm playfully. his mood lifts significantly hearing the other two ramble about what's going on in their respective departments. jaebum somehow always seems to have the latest gossip, but the fact remains that he’s a sucky storyteller who gets sidetracked every two sentences. it's still very entertaining, though.

 

he's halfway through the story of why everyone thinks professor kim and professor min might be secretly dating when they enter the cafeteria. they buy a portion of whatever generic cafeteria food is being served that day (jinyoung guilt-trips jaebum into buying him a second helping of apple pie) and seat themselves at their usual table. many of the tables around them are empty, but they generally are, considering the fact that jinyoung and his food-first policy ensure that they're always one of the first few groups to snag lunch.

 

jaebum is idly chewing on the ends of his chopsticks as he continues his story while waiting for the other two to finish, and jinyoung pauses with his food halfway to his mouth, eyes suddenly narrowing and lips pressing together.

 

“jinyoung-ah, are you even listening to me?” jaebum raises his eyebrows, confused by jinyoung’s sudden change of demeanor.

 

jinyoung’s brain is working at a third of its usual speed. there's a dull ringing in his ears, and he feels like he's going to drop through the ground. he's supposed to be feeling something, but it's like his mind has forgotten the very concept of emotions.

 

sitting at the table next to theirs is shinhyeo, and jinyoung’s okay with the idea of ignoring him, and he totally  _ would _ be ignoring him, if it wasn't for the too-intimate-to-be-platonic way the redhead’s arm is wrapped around the waist of the girl next to him and the way she's leaning her head on his shoulder, because jinyoung is totally _ not _ okay with that.

 

something snaps in him, something of too large a magnitude to be contained for a prolonged time period. he knows every atom of his might just spontaneously explode if he stays any longer.

 

youngjae’s followed his gaze, realized what's wrong, and is patting jinyoung’s arm to get his attention, probably so he can say something that he thinks will make the older feel better.

 

but jinyoung knows there's nothing that youngjae can say that will make this better.

 

so he just gets up, says, “give me a minute,” and walks out of the cafeteria.

 

==

 

**_—4 MARCH_ **

**_12:25_ **

  
  


“goddamn, jackson, did you honestly have to fence for that long?” berates mark as they walk to the cafeteria together.

 

“what the hell does he mean,  _ equipment is only open after the team for this semester has been drafted _ ?” whines jackson, wiping the sweat of his forehead with his sleeve. “i'm jackson wang, for god’s sake. i'm the reason this college  _ has  _ a fencing team!”

 

“he's new, and he’s an assistant, for god’s sake. you didn't have to challenge him to a match right then and there, you  showoff.” mark rolls his eyes. he knew accompanying jackson to see if there was any new sports equipment this semester would have its consequences.

 

“for an assistant, he fences  _ really  _ well,” mutters jackson grudgingly under his breath.

 

“he passed out of a sports university, and his minor was fencing, so he’d obviously fence pretty well.”—jackson opens his mouth vehemently, but mark cuts him off—“before you even ask me how i know that, i went and asked the coach while you two were fencing your asses off.”—jackson shuts his mouth quickly, frowning—“and what's your problem with assistants? there's nothing wrong with an assistant post. don't be so...post-ist, jacks.”

 

“if i'm post-ist, then you're a...post-it.”

 

“what the hell is that supposed to mean.”

 

“it means that you're two-dimensional and never stick to one thing.”

 

mark’s laugh is a mixture of incredulous and impressed. “that's a good one. i actually didn't expect you to have an answer.”

 

“i really didn't. i just took the first thing that came to mind.”

 

“expected no more, no less.”

 

jackson laughs at that statement, elbowing mark in the ribs. they're drawing up to the nearest cafeteria—not their usual one, but jackson’s delay means they don't get much space to choose today. not that it makes much of a difference anyway.

 

jackson quickly replies to all of the texts from the rest of their usual lunch group explaining why he couldn't join them today, and mark takes out his phone so he can look like he has something to do while they wait in line, and he's surprised to see about eight missed calls from jinyoung.

 

he frowns. he forgot to take his phone off silent after class, and judging by the timestamps on the calls, they've all been made in the last fifteen minutes. jinyoung wouldn't call unless there'd been a legitimate reason, so mark gets a little worried.

 

and by a little, he means _ pretty fucking worried,  _ because he's been worrying about that boy all weekend, texting him whenever he could with stupid jokes and whatever he could find to make sure jinyoung’s mind stayed away from shinhyeo. he could tell that the boy's mind went to pretty scary depths when left idle, and he just wanted to make sure that jinyoung didn't wear himself out emotionally. sometimes, even if a person makes a mistake, they'll take it upon themselves to make sure the next person doesn't make the same mistake. that's what mark was doing.

 

he quickly passes his lunch money to jackson, holding up his index finger to say that he'll be back in a minute, and steps out of line to call back.

 

“ _ hello _ ?”

 

mark does a double take. the voice at the other end of the line is not jinyoung’s. “hello?” he squeaks uncertainly, wondering for a second of he'd dialed the wrong number.

 

“ _ mark hyung! it's youngjae! thank god you called. we kinda lost jinyoung hyung _ .” youngjae’s voice is breathless, like he's run a mile.

 

mark doesn't quite know how to react. “what do you mean, you _ lost _ him?”

 

“ _ like _ ,” youngjae takes a deep breath, his words slowing down slightly and not overlapping as much. “ _ we—jaebum hyung, jinyoung hyung and i—were at caf 5, and then jinyoung hyung suddenly left, and now we can't find him _ .”

 

mark is silent. jinyoung suddenly leaving sounds a little off, but he's not a child. they wouldn't have to go and find him unless it was more serious than that. mark is phrasing his question when youngjae’s next words cut through his thought process.

 

“ _ oh, yeah, i almost forgot. shinhyeo has a girlfriend _ .” 

 

and suddenly it all makes sense. mark feels a sudden, powerful urge to beat the shit out of shinhyeo—although to be honest, he's felt that way since he found out who won shinhyeo is— but now it’s because what he’s done is basically the equivalent of rubbing super-concentrated salt on an open wound. mark’s so angry that he can't even bring himself to form a coherent sentence.

 

“and you've checked everywhere?” he finally asks, words squeezed out with the utmost effort.

 

“ _ well, his cycle’s still at the gate, and he left his satchel behind, so he doesn't have his i.d., meaning that he definitely hasn't left campus. but, he's not at the library or at the department. so _ ,” mark can almost see youngjae’s little defeated shrug. “ _ yeah, no clue _ .”

 

“okay, i'll check a couple places myself, and i'll let you know if i find him, okay?” mark’s clueless. he doesn't know where to start looking, but he just know that he has to.

 

“ _ yes. definitely. thanks, hyung _ .” youngjae hangs up quickly and that's when jackson’s walking up to him, two trays in his hands.

 

“dude, so wurin and a couple of the others are on their way here since they're done with lunch, okay?” 

 

mark’s about to shrug in response, saying that he has to run anyway, and the very people mentioned by jackson make their entrance, chattering loudly and waving at them. 

 

mark grabs his portion of apple pie from his tray, sealed in a clear wrapper, and grabs jackson’s too, figuring he'll need sustenance on his search, because as much as he'd like to run out the door to go search for jinyoung, he's human and needs his food. he's not _ that _ whipped.

 

“jacks, i gotta go,” says mark quickly as the others make their way towards them.

 

“why?” jackson looks mark’s face up and down, and then shakes his head in a way that's supposed to be condescending, but appears more affectionate. “tell him i said hi,” he adds in a whisper with a wink.

 

mark raises his eyebrows, wondering if he has a  _ jinyoung  _ face that jackson's picked up on or what, and leaving the cafeteria before the younger realizes that his piece of apple pie is missing. there's a huge crowd outside the main dining area where students are milling around and enjoying their free hour. 

 

there's a small staircase at the far end of the room, and mark frowns, not exactly sure why he noticed that. he turns around, and notices the large number five hanging over the entrance to the dining area. five as in _ cafeteria five. _

 

there's a small chance. mark eyes the staircase again. as far as he knows, every cafeteria has a terrace, but no one really uses them because it's hard to walk around with all the pipes that criss-cross over the floor.

 

finally, mark decides to not look like he's lost and take the stairs. even though he should be, he's really not surprised to see park jinyoung sitting with his back against the wall adjacent to the door, arms resting at his sides and legs crossed.

 

jinyoung is extremely surprised to see mark, though, by the way his eyes widen when he notices mark’s presence. mark navigates his way through the pipes, finally seating himself next to jinyoung.

 

“who told you?” asks jinyoung before mark can attempt to formulate a sentence.

 

“no one told you that you're here, i found you myself.”

 

“but why would you in any way feel the need to _ find _ me, hyung?”

 

mark quickly studies the younger’s face while the question is being asked.  _ eyes? not red. definitely has not cried. but how?  _ “i'm psychic, that's why.” something about jinyoung’s expression reminds mark that jinyoung  _ may _ not be in mood for jokes right now, so he quickly adds, “youngjae, okay? speaking of whom, i'll just text him and tell him i found you.”

 

“youngjae? but he doesn't have your number. did you run into him?” jinyoung’s voice sounds different. it sounds like the voice of a person who has had all the life sucked out of them. it hurts mark like a punch to the stomach.

 

mark looks up from his phone, where he's dashing off a quick reply to the mentioned male. “hmm? no. he called me from your phone.”

 

jinyoung leans over to look at the screen of the other’s phone, and when he speaks, there's the slightest hint of a smile in his voice. “why is my number saved as ‘fake boyfriend’?”

 

“just because you are?” mark laughs a little shakily. he doesn't even know if this is supposed to be awkward or not. he reacts defensively to the judging look on jinyoung’s face. “i don't know! what's my number saved as on your phone, huh?”

 

“‘mark’, i think?” jinyoung looks like he's going to laugh, but is just not in the mood to.

 

“so what if i save my numbers with the weirdest labels? jackson’s was ‘that loud blond kid’ for almost a year before he hacked into my phone and changed it. and also changed his hair color.” mark frowns. “i see no reason to talk about this, though.”

 

“what do you want to talk about, then?” 

 

mark evaluates and reevaluates that question in his head about a million times before responding with, “i don't know… is there anything  _ you  _ want to talk about?”

 

“ah, so youngjae did tell you.” the slight smile that had wandered onto the younger’s face while mark was rambling about contact names vanishes faster than the flame of a candle on a windy night.

 

“you think i'd drop everything and come search for you if all youngjae had told me was that you just walked out for no reason?”

 

“i assumed you would,” shrugs jinyoung. mark almost shrugs back in agreement. there’s really no lie there. “and you didn't drop everything. you still took apple pie with you. or did you have that before youngjae called you?”

 

“not really,” admits mark. he holds one of the pieces out. “want one?”

 

“nah,” breathes jinyoung, barely audible. mark tilts his head, continuing to hold it out until the younger sighs and finally just takes the piece of pie, because no heartbreak is worth refusing food.

 

mark sighs as he watches the other nibble at the dessert morosely, waiting for him to start talking because he really isn't sure what to start with. there’s something beautiful about the boy even when he’s sad. kind of like a work of art. some beauty lies in the sadness.

 

jinyoung notices mark outright staring at him. “what?”

 

“nothing.” mark drops his gaze immediately. “just waiting for you to say something.”

 

“aren't you the one who's supposed to be talking?” questions jinyoung.

 

“i’m bad at this. what am i supposed to say?” mark’s head falls against the wall with a dull  _ thunk  _ as he leans back against it defeatedly. that's the truth. he doesn't know what to say. it's been five days, and he's sick of jinyoung being sad. okay, being sick of it is putting it a little harsh, but he really doesn't want to see him like that anymore. even though the younger doesn’t know it, his sadness has a direct effect on mark.

 

jinyoung’s defeated sigh echoes mark’s, and he leans his head on mark’s shoulder, saying in almost a whisper, “just don’t tell me everything’s going to be okay.”

 

the words cause a void to form in mark’s chest.  _ everything’s going to be okay.  _ a staple statement, but one that almost never helps. and admittedly, the very thing that mark was going to say. as much as the fact remains that a lot of truth lies behind the statement, it has become overused to the extent that hearing it when you’re down makes you want to punch a hole in a wall, and mark understands that. “sorry.”

 

“i told you not to say that either, though.”

 

“blueberries.”

 

jinyoung loops his arm through mark’s, burying his face further in the older’s shoulder. “i still can’t believe that  _ that  _ was the first thing that came to my mind.”

 

“i know, me neither.” mark looks at the boy clinging to his arm with a small smile.

 

jinyoung looks back up at him tentatively, frowning like he’s trying to figure out what the other is going to say. “you know your eyes just give away everything that you’re thinking? like, even with your glasses on?”

 

mark doesn’t know what to make of that sentence. half the time his brain is screaming that park jinyoung is the most precious human being he’s ever come across. is that what his eyes say? but then his brain jumps ahead, saying that if his eyes actually gave away everything that he was thinking, then jinyoung would have figured out his not-so-complicated feelings a very long time ago. (read: a little more than two weeks ago.) “oh yeah? and what am i thinking?”

 

“you’re just plain concerned, and that makes me feel like a piece of shit, because i don’t want people concerned about me,” says jinyoung flatly, like he's stating a fact, or reading out a menu.

 

a small silence. mark relates on so many levels, but he knows that jinyoung doesn't know that, so he doesn't worry about being called out for being hypocritical. “people are going to get concerned about you if they care about you, so that doesn’t make you a piece of shit. take that back,” responds mark in an equally flat tone.

 

“blueberries.” something about the word makes the tension in the air break, and mark’s twisting his arm out of jinyoung’s grasp with a small smile so he can drape it around jinyoung instead. his piece of apple pie rests on the ground next to him, still sealed, forgotten.

 

there’s a small silence, and mark breaks it uncertainly. “to be honest, you’re being remarkably strong about this.”

 

jinyoung looks up at him with a sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes at all. “that’s just a nice way of saying that you expected to find me being an emotional mess, am i right?” mark’s silence is confirmation, so the younger continues, dusting off a couple crumbs of puff pastry that have fallen onto his shirt. “see, that’s the thing. after a point, tears don’t seem to justify how much i’m feeling. either that or i’ve exhausted all my tears. it just hurts, but i can’t cry. it’s not that i don’t  _ want  _ to, i just _ can’t _ .”

 

mark gets that. he’s been through a few of those times himself. he tries not to let those memories back into his mind. boxes that have been closed remain closed.  _ emotions are everyone’s worst enemy. _

 

jinyoung’s not finished. “like, do you know what it’s like, liking someone who takes all measures to let you know that they won’t be yours? it’s like waiting at a traffic light that’s stuck on red.”

 

mark almost laughs out loud.  _ oh, the irony. do you know what it’s like, liking someone who actually makes it seem like they could be yours but in actual truth, they’re talking to you about someone else they like? it's like waiting at a traffic light that's stuck on yellow. _ “i wouldn't say i'm familiar with that concept, no.”

 

“consider yourself lucky,” scoffs jinyoung. “you know, i was thinking.”

 

“always a dangerous pastime.”

 

“idiot, let me finish.” jinyoung hits mark’s arm lightly, shifting slightly so his head rests on mark’s chest. “so...um, i'm probably phrasing this in a really weird way, but yeah, that's the way it is. anyway, i realized that i never really actually _ liked _ shinhyeo.”

 

mark rolls his eyes knowing that jinyoung can't see his face anyway. “look, you're probably just in denial because you don't want to accept that he hurt you this m—”

 

“no, listen to me. what i'm trying to say is that yes, i did originally like him. i liked his poetic sensibilities. i liked aspects of him that anyone could pick out, not for something that technically, i would…” jinyoung takes a slight pause and sighs painfully, like it’s taking a lot in him to get the words out, and mark rests his chin on the younger boy’s head as a form of reassurance. “...have to personally know him for.”

 

“look, we all do stupid things, feel stupid things that we can't explain.”  _ trust me, i know.  _ “but it's because we're human, you know.”

 

“look, you're going to honestly start learning to let me finish, because all my thoughts are often articulated into several paragraphs, and it might look like i'm done saying something, but i'm really not.” jinyoung sounds like a whiny five-year-old, but at least there's some emotion in his voice, so mark still counts that as a plus.

 

“blueberries.”

 

“i swear, it's going to take me a while to get used to that word. how did  _ i  _ come up with _ that _ ?” jinyoung shakes his head incredulously. “but it's cute, yeah?”

 

mark smiles, rolling his eyes again. “yeah. now go on. you said you weren't done.”

 

“right. what i was going to say is that i got used to having a crush, and even though i knew the baselessness of the reasons that i cited to say that i liked him, i just didn't lose the feelings, because i just liked it, you know? the feeling of liking someone. just feeling happy that the other person existed. it gave a bit of excitement to my otherwise mundane life, you know?” jinyoung pauses to take a breath. he's been talking so fast that his words has started overlapping each other. “and it just turned a little…intoxicating, and i didn't pull myself out fast enough to prevent damage. i just got too attached to the idea of liking him, the hypothesizing about what could happen, the teasing that i pretended to hate. i got too attached, it's that plain and simple.”

 

mark remains silent.  _ attached to the idea of liking someone?  _ as much as mark gets what jinyoung is trying to convey, he can't relate. at all. he’s liked a few people, but he’s always had definite reasons why, and also this constant need to stop liking the other person. he’ll spare himself the extra heartbreak if he can. (the funny part is that his general techniques to evade his feelings have had zero effect so far when it comes to one certain person.)

 

“hyung, i'm done talking.”

 

mark snaps out of his little reverie. “right. uh—”

 

“you don't have to say anything, i just needed to get that off my chest,” follows up jinyoung, waving a hand dismissively.

 

“oh.”

 

“come on, it'd be more than just a little questionable if someone walked upstairs right now.” jinyoung sits back up, expression just as blank as it was before either of them started talking. he gets to his feet and dusts off his jeans, mark doing the same.

 

jinyoung looks like the equivalent of what would happen if someone crossed a kicked puppy and person who hadn't slept for several nights. mark can't stop himself from holding his arms open, and jinyoung walks right into the hug, though not hugging back himself.

 

mark gets it. sometimes all we need is to have someone hold us and silently tell us that everything’s going to be okay, even if the phrase is banned from being expressed verbally.

 

jinyoung’s voice jerks him out of his thoughts once more and mark makes a mental note to stop zoning out so much. “do you want to date me? for real?”

 

mark’s not even sure if he heard that right, but at the same time he's one hundred percent sure he heard that right. but does he want to date him for real?

 

_ of course _ he does. he’d say yes times a thousand to that question. he’d date jinyoung to the fricking moon and back, treat him the way he deserved to be treated, tell him how much of a gift he is at every opportunity, and never even think of hurting him in a million years. and as cheesy as all of it sounded, it was true. every bit of it. so yes, mark would  _ definitely  _ date jinyoung.

 

“no one deserves to be treated as a rebound, jinyoungie,” says mark softly. “you should probably put dating out of your mind while shinhyeo’s still on your mind.” there's a throbbing in his head, and also in his heart. he’d be lying if he said he hadn't imagined this, but the circumstances had been very different.

 

and what stabs mark in the heart the most is the fact that saying yes would have been so easy for him. if his brain hadn't held him back, his heart would've jumped at it. he would have said yes in a heartbeat. an impulsive, desperate heartbeat. and that in itself makes him hate the very concept of emotions all over.

 

_ but i'm not saying no. i'm just saying i'll wait in hope that one day, you'll mean that. _

 

“right,” responds jinyoung as he pulls away from the hug, eyes on the ground, voice equally soft. “sorry, that was just hurt and stupidity talking. forget i ever said anything, yeah?”

 

“it’s okay.” translation:  _ it's really not. i mean, i get it, and i would think nothing of it if i didn't like you, but i do, so yeah. _

 

“no, for real, i'm sorry, that was just the heights of stupid.”

 

“i thought we agreed not to say the words ‘i'm sorry’, and i also thought we agreed to forget what happened, so chill, okay?” translation:  _ this is going to rob me of sleep and plague me with what-ifs for the rest of eternity, but for both our sakes, for the sake of this friendship, i'm saying this. _

 

jinyoung manages a weak smile, and mark remembers the existence of something resting in his left hand. “you want another piece of apple pie?”

 

“don't you want it?” asks the younger, checking his watch quickly. it's nearly the end of their lunch break, so getting lunch now is out of the question.

 

“i'm not really that hungry.” mark isn't lying. he lost his appetite a little while ago. he holds the piece out until jinyoung takes it, laughing a bit at the déjà vu.

 

so he lied. he really is _ that _ whipped.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so my exams are coming up ( wish me luck cause i'll need it haha ) and my life is gonna get real busy with all the studying, so i figured i could double update today because the next update will only be coming in mid-march. i hope you liked this update !! do tell me what you thought of it cause your comments always make my day and i love you all very very much <33


	11. Chapter 11

******_—7 MARCH_ **

**_14:17_ **

  
  


“is it that late already? well then, class dismissed.”

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes. class should have ended a quarter of an hour ago, and their kinematics professor uses that excuse _ every _ class.  _ for a physicist, she really has no sense of time,  _ he thinks bitterly.

 

he walks out as though in a dream, barely managing a smile as he waves to a couple of his classmates. 

 

he hasn't slept in forever. or so it feels. three days can feel like a really long time if one conscious day stretches longer than nineteen hours.

 

he's been awake when jaebum gets back from work for the last couple days, all three times writing on his laptop. the toxicity of his thoughts keeps him up until three or four in the morning, when exhaustion finally claims him, only to have him snatched away at six in the morning, when the alarm under his pillow buzzes and announces that it's time he wakes up. he's been working on extra-credit projects to escape the drumming in his brain that will not cease. the way youngjae looks at him is getting exponentially more sympathetic, the way jaebum looks at him more worried than anything, with the slightest hint of exasperation. the circles under jinyoung’s are really getting too dark to ignore.

 

he just really, really wants to sleep. when he's up, the thought of texting mark often surfaces in his mind, but he knows that the other will only shut off any attempt at conversation and tell him to sleep. mark cares, jinyoung gets it, and that's precisely why he pushes the thought away as soon as it makes its appearance. because he doesn't want to give mark any more reason to worry about him. and also because he doesn't want to disturb the older at work again.

 

he's had trouble keeping his eyes open the whole day, but luckily, it's a thursday, which means it's the only weekday on which he doesn't have to go to work. he could use a nice long nap right now, and there happens to be another person who does fulfill their sleep quota in the middle of the afternoon.

 

jinyoung hasn't seen mark since that awkward terrace rejection. in complete honesty, he didn't know what he was thinking either. that little exchange has returned to his thoughts way too much, causing him to cringe over and over and over. he shudders slightly as he relives the moment yet again. 

 

_ what were you thinking? _

_ i really don’t know. _

_ for real,  _ what  _ were you thinking? _

_ don’t think about it, it was a mistake. _

_ a mistake, a mistake, a mistake. _

_ change subject, change subject, CHANGE SUBJECT. _

_ tiny hamsters eating tiny burritos! _

_ again?! _

 

even then, jinyoung dashes off a quick message to jaebum, telling him to cycle back to the apartment on his own today, and with that, he heads in the direction of the boys’ dorms.

 

jackson, who's dressed in black trousers and a burgundy button-down shirt which is only half-buttoned, evidently getting ready to go to work, opens the door when jinyoung knocks on it, his smile widening as he registers who the unexpected visitor is. jinyoung regrettably cannot smile back with the same magnitude, especially when jackson  jovially claps him on the shoulder a little too hard.

 

“jinyoung, my man!” grins jackson, closing the door after jinyoung enters. “what brings you to casa del markson?” he asks as jinyoung toes off his shoes.

 

“need for a nap.” jinyoung is in no mood to mince words right now, and as jackson has never fails to bring up, he  _ has _ stumbled upon the other two sleeping the same bed more than once.

 

jackson simply shrugs at the reason, picking up a striped tie from the desk next to him. “go on, then.” he calmly begins looping the tie around his neck as jinyoung walks over to the door of the bedroom.

 

mark’s lying on his mattress on his side of the room, his covers over his head when jinyoung twists the doorknob, and as soon as the older has registered that another person has entered the room, he groans, “jackson, you useless ass fucktard, i  _ told _ you not to—” he throws the duvet off his head and stops himself short, seeing that the intruder happens to not be jackson. he reaches for his glasses kept under his pillow, shoving them onto his face. “—oh. whoops.”

 

jinyoung shrugs a little awkwardly, trying—for what seems to be the nth time today—for a smile. “hey.” 

 

mark’s face softens. “hey.” it almost sounds like a question. uncertainty grips jinyoung, but mark dispels that fairly quickly, moving over to the wall and patting the space next to him.

 

jinyoung sets down his satchel, sitting on the mattress with his legs folded under him. mark looks up at him with eyes almost as tired as his. “wanna tell me what’s up?” asks mark softly, tugging on the sleeve of jinyoung’s shirt.

 

“four nights, hyung, and i only got nine hours of sleep,” sighs jinyoung, stretching out, his head landing on the pillow with a soft _ thud. _ he stares at the off-white ceiling blankly, feeling mark’s eyes on him. he turns by ninety degrees so he can face him, their faces a foot apart.

 

mark chuckles lightly, taking off his glasses and stowing them back under his pillow. “haven't been doing much better myself.” he throws the duvet over jinyoung, then clutches the covers around him and curls up slightly. “i take it you came to give me company to sleep?”

 

“more like i needed your company to sleep,” admits jinyoung, eliciting a noncommittal hum from mark. they have a short staring match, but mark starts giggling, which makes jinyoung smile a little wider. the moment is interrupted when jackson decides to burst into the room.

 

jinyoung jumps, sitting up. mark scowls. “jackson—”

 

“let it be known that i did not want to interrupt, i apologize.” jackson holds up a hand to silence him. “but i have to ask jinyoung this one thing before i forget.” he wheels on the mentioned, who's watching him with an amused, albeit slightly suspicious gaze.  _ like, what could jackson possibly have to ask— _

 

“are jaebum and youngjae together?”

 

okay, that was _ not _ what jinyoung expected. he's caught off-guard.  _ what? how?  _ he freezes like a deer in headlights, and jackson’s eyes are scanning his face like the answer isn't already written all over it.

 

“huh?” jinyoung comes back to reality with a bit of a thump, remembering that he has an excuse, but he can't seem to remember it at the moment. “together in what sense?”

 

“as in, are they dating?”

 

“ah.”  _ well, that certainly negates any excuse in my misunderstanding any part of your question. shit.  _ jinyoung’s thoughts are in a lethargy-induced scramble, and he's too startled in the first place to form a convincing defense, because he never thought he’d ever find himself in a situation where he’d actually have to use the excuse they had come up with. the excuse that now evades any attempt to be found in the depths of his mind. “why would you suspect that?”

 

jackson takes a deep breath and jinyoung thinks,  _ oh shit, he actually has an answer.  _ “so, i kinda started suspecting it at the mall, at the café. their communication was a little snappy for some reason. something felt weird, but you know, i couldn't figure it out then—”

 

“typical friendship fights, you know,” says jinyoung dismissively. “they're good now, so never mind that.”

 

jackson puts his hands on his hips, saying, “yah, let me finish my explanation!” mark stifles a laugh, evidently amused by this conversation between the two ‘let me finish my explanation’ cases. 

 

jinyoung nods quickly, wondering what kind of damning evidence jackson might possess.

 

“so, the day after that, i had to go to starbucks to meet someone, okay? you know the nearest starbucks, about five streets away, past that intersection?”

 

suddenly, a really bad feeling creeps up jinyoung’s windpipe. the street that jackson was referring to happened to be the same street that merch n’more was on, and if it was the day after the mall fiasco, then jinyoung wouldn't be mistaken in realizing that it would've been the same day that jaebum had shown up to apologize to youngjae.

 

jackson goes on. “yeah, so the person i was waiting for never actually showed up, and i'd been waiting for over half an hour, and then i spotted jaebum and youngjae walk by the window. yes, it was them, i could see their faces very clearly.” jackson adds the last sentence quickly, and then waits to see if jinyoung is going to ask him any further questions, and then goes on to say, “so either way, i thought i’d go say hi, you know, since my company wasn’t showing up anyway.”

 

jinyoung doesn’t know what’s coming.  _ what had jaebum and youngjae done? those injudicious halfwits. they better not have _ —

 

“yeah, so they were standing like a couple shops ahead, and they were talking, like, really seriously, and i was going to go up and join them, because, you know, interrupting conversations to make my presence known isn’t that hard for me. but…” he pauses dramatically, and jinyoung’s barely breathing. “...interrupting kisses is not something i can do.”

 

mark claps a hand to his mouth, eyes wide in shock and mirth. jinyoung scrunches his eyes up tight, wondering if there was any way he could give the other two in the room selective amnesia and make them forget anything that had been heard or witnessed about 2jae. obviously, jackson’s motive hadn’t been to come to jinyoung for confirmation. he already  _ had _ his confirmation. his plan was just to let jinyoung know that he had it.

 

“kissing? you sure?” tries jinyoung weakly. “maybe they were just talking with their faces really close so no one else would hear them.”

 

“oh,  _ trust  _ me, i'm  _ sure _ .” jackson's tone is heavy with implication, and jinyoung suddenly feels like he needs to hurl.

 

jackson watches jinyoung silently, daring him to interrogate him, to tell him it’s not true, to tell him that it must have been someone else he saw, but jinyoung isn’t an idiot, and he isn’t going to made to look like one, so he refrains from asking any questions. jackson walks over and seats himself on the floor near the mattress, looking up at jinyoung with eyes filled with a mixture of victory and wonder.

 

“did you get them together? were you the kingpin?” asks jackson. mark is also sitting up by now, cocooned in blankets and resting his head on his knees. jinyoung can tell that they’re both very interested, and he really can’t see any point in denying it or withholding information.

 

“first off, if you want me to tell you guys anything, you’re going to have to promise not to tell anyone anything.” even through his tiredness, the firmness in jinyoung’s voice can be heard. “there’s a lot at stake over this, i hope you understand that.

 

jackson nods vigorously, placing his hand over his heart, sincerely declaring that he isn't out to ruin anyone's life. mark simply says, “you can trust me,” and that’s good enough for jinyoung.

 

“yeah, i got them together,” he admits, shrugging with a small smile as the memory flits across his mind. he technically  _ didn’t _ really do anything, but he tried for months on end, only to have everything come to a climax based on no move that he had made. but that’s okay. the point is that he tried. the point is that they’re together. the point is that he never gets tired of saying  _ i told you so _ .

 

“that’s so cool. how long have they been together?” gushes jackson.

 

“a couple months,” shrugs jinyoung.

 

“do you get third-wheeled often?” asks jackson, with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

 

“in complete honesty, no.” that is one of the major reasons he never regrets getting them together. he still counts, and he gets the joy of shipping with it. mark gives the statement an impressed nod.

 

jackson lets out a little yell in delight. “oh my god, i still can’t believe that they’re actually together. they seem really cute. are they cute?”

 

“they’re very cute,” nods jinyoung emphatically. “it’s like they walked straight out of a damn rom-com, you know. frickin’ precious.”

 

“aww,” coos jackson, holding a hand to his heart. “it’s okay that i know, right?”

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes. “i don’t think it was really your choice, jackson, so it’s cool. you’re just not allowed to tell anyone. they’re still a little...insecure about the whole thing.”

 

jackson mimes zipping his mouth and throwing the key away. “you have my promise. wang’s honor.” he nods swiftly, and leaves the room with the aura of a satisfied customer. jinyoung shakes his head amusedly as he lies back down.

 

“that was...not what i was expecting,” he admits, and mark chuckles, throwing an arm over him and pulling him closer. something about the sleeping arrangement feels different to jinyoung. “isn’t it generally me near the wall?” he asks, because somehow, saying  _ isn’t it generally me spooning you?  _ would not feel awkward only if they were  _ together  _ together. also, jinyoung does not have that high an affinity towards the word  _ spooning.  _ it makes him cringe for some weird reason.

 

“does it really make a difference?” mumbles mark, his forehead pressed against the back of jinyoung’s head. jinyoung can feel mark’s breath ghost over the back of his neck, and he feels tingles up his spine. jinyoung’s not used to being held, and it actually feels really comforting. so yes, it does make a difference, but jinyoung can’t seem to find himself complaining.

 

“nah, just saying,” he quietly says. “hey, by the way. a couple of my classmates asked me yesterday if i was going out with you, so looks like the news finally hit my batch.”

 

mark hums. “took its time.” a pause. “i still regret getting you into that drama, though.”

 

“nah, it’s whatever,” chuckles jinyoung tiredly. “you’re a pretty okay fake boyfriend.”

 

mark lets out a little laugh and snuggles a little closer, tucking his face into the crook of jinyoung’s neck, and suddenly the younger yelps and jumps, effectively rolling off the mattress. mark looks alarmed, but jinyoung is actually quietly laughing, his hand covering his mouth. “sorry, sorry,” wheezes out the younger. “i’m just really ticklish at the neck.” learning that, mark bursts out laughing, waiting until his laughter ceases to pull jinyoung back onto the mattress. 

 

they snuggle back into the same position, smiles on both their lips as they drift off into unconsciousness.

 

==

 

— **_7 MARCH_ **

**_22:47_ **

  
  


mark swears, he meant to wake up three hours ago.

 

but then he thought,  _ eh, it’s okay, i’ll just skive off studying for a day. it’s not going to make a difference, i’ll just tell jackson to wake me up in time to get ready for work.  _ maybe he should’ve known that jackson, being jackson, would lose track of all time and wake him up less than fifteen minutes before his shift at café 247 began.

 

the next ten minutes are a blur, but somehow mark manages to get himself ready, because the next thing he knows, he’s in his work uniform and ready to go. he grabs his glasses from under his pillow and pauses for a moment.

 

jinyoung’s still sleeping. the boy is out like a light, pretty much dead to the world. his face is peaceful, unguarded. this is jinyoung with all his walls taken down, and he looks so serene, so untroubled. mark crouches by the foot of the bed for just a second, just one second, but doesn’t make any move other than that. had he been a romantic like jinyoung, he would’ve done something incredibly cliché like place a kiss on the other’s boy forehead before he left, or just  _ slightly _ push the other boy’s bangs away from his face. no, mark just smiles slightly at the sleeping boy, murmurs a small, “sleep well, you idiot,” and leaves.

 

jackson, in compensation for not waking mark up on time, has offered to drive him to work. mark really doesn't think that's enough compensation. the café is literally two streets from college, and the only reason they even take five minutes to get there is because they always take a roundabout route.

 

it really doesn't help that all through the ride, jackson lectures mark on why reenacting scenes from dramas does not suit the older, having peeked into the room while mark was going all soft over jinyoung sleeping. regardless of how many ever times mark insists that he didn't  _ reenact  _ anything, jackson goes on. eventually, mark just gives up on protesting—rather, attempting to protest—sulking in his seat as jackson goes on about how being soft is not in mark’s genes and therefore he kinda sucks at the whole affection thing in general and if he damn wanted, jackson could give him lessons. mark passes on that.

 

mark apologizes a million times to junmyeon, bowing over and over even though all junmyeon does is tell him it's okay and that he better not make it a habit. with a freaking smile. junmyeon’s niceness makes mark all the more guilty. it's unfair. junmyeon just has an aura that makes you want to be a better person around him. kunpimook says he considers him an angel, and mark agrees.

 

mark busies himself, studying but also making the occasional order for the few students that sit in the café, studying. nocturnal, just like him. he knows a couple of them, but not personally, though. kunpimook and yugyeom are leaning on the counter, right next to him, finishing math problems and complaining about calculus every two minutes. junmyeon’s manning the register currently, tinkering absentmindedly with his phone as the general peaceful silence fills the air around them, interspersed with an occasional clinking of cutlery and notification tones.

 

around twelve-thirty, the bell by the door rings, announcing the arrival of the first new customer after mark’s shift began. well, not a customer. it turns out to be yixing. his hair is slightly tousled and his clothes slightly disheveled. not in too noticeable a way. in fact, it's on the verge of being mistaken for fashionable. he has smudged kohl under his eyes and had on a wide-necked shirt that showcases his sharp collar bones, and he looks pretty fucking attractive. in fact, mark notices that one female student in the corner can't seem to take his eyes off the new arrival. if mark had been into men five years older than him, he wouldn't have been able to tear his gaze away either.

 

junmyeon puts his phone down as yixing makes his way to the counter, almost tripping over a couple of his steps. as he gets closer, mark can notice his flushed cheeks, his bright eyes, almost too bright. a brightness that suggests he isn't fully himself at the moment.

 

junmyeon gives his friend a disapproving stare. they have a whispered conversation—well, junmyeon is whispering, and yixing is replying at almost normal volume, although attempting to whisper.

 

mark can catch almost the entire conversation. he can hear junmyeon’s concerned enquiries, the questions, “where were you?”, “why were you with them?”, “are you drunk?”, “well then, are you sober enough to get yourself home?”, and yixing replies with the phrases “dancing”, “they're really persuasive, and i mean  _ really _ ”, “i only had a little, i'm okay, i swear”, and “i'm a little tipsy, but pretty conscious, don't worry.”

 

“if you're okay, then why aren't you at home?” questions junmyeon, a little sternly.

 

yixing rests his chin in his hand, staring up at junmyeon as he leans on the counter. mark guesses that the female student in the corner is really appreciating the view now. “i actually forgot my apartment key, so i was wondering if you could stay at yours tonight.”

 

“you have the spare, and you know i won't say no, so you could've just gone there.” mark hasn't heard junmyeon ever sound so firm. evidently, junmyeon doesn't approve at all to whatever yixing’s been doing.

 

“i know, but i wanted to see you,” admits yixing, face breaking into a bright grin. something about the drink has made yixing a little bold, mark can tell. it's amusing. 

 

junmyeon rolls his eyes at the declaration, but smiles back regardless, mellow all over again. at least outwardly. “sit, you idiot. tea?”

 

“you know me best.” yixing shoots the other finger guns and a wink as he circles the counter so he can sit down at the couch at the back. mark still finds it remarkably surprising that despite running a café, yixing refuses to drink anything but tea. 

 

yixing waves to mark and kunpimook as though just noticing them, hanging off junmyeon’s shoulder as junmyeon prepares tea. mark still finds it all the more surprising that junmyeon still hasn't noticed the stars in yixing’s eyes, the stars that shine for junmyeon, and for junmyeon alone.

 

mark glances up from his textbook every couple minutes, smiling to himself as he observes the conversation between the two managers. yixing is speaking animatedly, which is not something he generally does, cradling his mug of tea in his hands while junmyeon listens, a smile, one that's almost amused but also a touch melancholic, on his face.

 

mark suffers a near-heart attack when yugyeom decides to sneak up behind him and whisper, “i think yixing hyung likes junmyeon hyung.” yugyeom has a large curiosity and an even larger mouth, so mark refrains from commenting, shrugging slightly and grinning like it's a good joke. once it seems like yugyeom is convinced that mark doesn't have anything to say, he leaves, returning to the register.

 

once yixing finishes his tea, he decides to leave. actually, junmyeon has to force him to leave, reminding him that he has to be back at five and he better not be sleepy then. yixing leaves after firmly promising that he'll call to let junmyeon know that he reaches safe. even then, junmyeon gets him a taxi, pushes him into it and only then resumes work. the concern in junmyeon’s eyes lingers long after yixing’s left.

 

when curiosity gets the best of mark, he drops a small question to junmyeon, who responds saying simply, “sometimes, people close to you are going to pick up habits you don't approve of. sometimes you're going to have to stand up and tell them what's wrong, and keep telling them until they listen.” junmyeon sighs heavily at this point, gazing at the entrance of the café like he can still see yixing standing there. “he's not generally this lively, and i find it nice when he is, but it just annoys me that he needs to get alcohol into him to be that way.” he shakes his head sadly, but when he looks up, there's an anger burning in his eyes. “call me boring, a grandpa, fine. i just believe in being safe. i’d like to live a long time, and he’s my best friend, so obviously i’d like him to as well.”

 

“but why would he get into this habit in the first place, hyung? does he have any reason?” asks mark.

 

“he says it helps him cope. cope with _ what _ is what he hasn't told me,” explains junmyeon bitterly. mark thinks he might have an idea what yixing might want to cope with. “he used to tell me everything. it's just recently that he's closed up, and i don't even know why!” he huffs. he pauses for a second to take a breath, and his angry demeanor melts away, and suddenly he's calm ol’ junmyeon again. “never mind me. it'll be okay.” he seems more like he's trying to convince himself, and mark pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. junmyeon doesn't seem like he wants to talk about this anymore, and so mark goes back to his work, not really worried.

 

they're junmyeon and yixing, the best friends ever. they'll sort this out. they'll totally be okay. right?

 

around five, when his shift ends, mark hangs up his apron and says goodbye to junmyeon, yugyeom and kunpimook, noticing that for once throughout his seventeen-month career at café 247, he's gone one morning without marveling over the fact that yixing walked in at exactly five o’clock on the dot.

 

probably because this morning, yixing didn't.

 

when mark gets back, jinyoung is still sleeping on his mattress. jackson is snoring on his own mattress on the opposite side of the room, mouth wide open and eye mask on, making mark laugh silently as he slides in near the wall next to jinyoung, who's formed a cocoon for himself using mark’s duvet.

 

mark takes the space near the wall that he vacated hours ago, figuring he can squeeze in an hour of sleep before jackson wakes him up to study. he pulls a portion of his duvet away from jinyoung’s grip, sliding under the cover with a sigh of relief. 

 

he wakes up when jackson shakes him awake with zero consideration. although, jackson has been considerate enough to pull mark away from jinyoung before attempting to very violently wake him up so jinyoung doesn't wake up. mark hisses as he opens his eyes, and jackson hisses right back. 

 

mark brushes his teeth and takes a quick shower just to wake himself up completely, slipping into a jersey of jackson's and shorts and sitting by his desk to study. he manages to get through a significant chunk of a chapter. he's actually making pretty good progress with his studying, better than he expected. he feels like slacking off all this time has caused his brain to accumulate unused energy that he can use now, and he thinks at this rate, he'll make it without breaking too much of a sweat.

 

around seven-fifteen, jackson reminds him to wake jinyoung up. actually, jackson was going to wake him up, but mark will let the sky fall on his head before he lets  _ that  _ happen. having been woken up by jackson for three years, he  _ really  _ doesn't want anyone else to have to suffer the same way. especially someone who's been sleeping for the last sixteen hours.

 

mark kneels by the bed, placing his hand on jinyoung’s shoulder and gently giving it a shake. “jinyoungie?” the younger shows no sign of waking up, so mark gives him another shake, a little firmer, and another and another until jinyoung finally responds, murmuring “five more minutes,” and then proceeding to wrap the covers around him tighter and turn away from mark.

 

the older laughs at the reaction, poking jinyoung’s side, though he guesses that jinyoung can't really feel it through the thick duvet. walking on his knees, mark climbs onto the low mattress, poking jinyoung repeatedly. jinyoung doesn't react much other than muttering darkly in his half-sleep and shuffling away from mark. “go away, hyung.”

 

“i would, but i believe you have class in less than half an hour and perfect attendance record hanging in the balance.”

 

“i don’t care,” whines jinyoung, pulling the duvet over his head. 

 

mark climbs on top of the duvet lump, starfishing out. “come on, kid. get the fuck up, park jinyoung.”

 

with an almighty heave, jinyoung pushes both mark and the duvet off him. “you’re remarkably persistent,” he grumbles, rubbing his puffy eyes with his fist, looking adorably muddled. “i detest people like you.”

 

“i know, i know,” grins mark, throwing the heavy duvet off himself. “i detest people like that too. now go take a shower, we have class.”

 

“class…?” jinyoung’s eyes widen, and he instinctively looks towards the window, through which tell-tale rays of sunshine are streaming in. he looks back at mark, his hand over his mouth in shock. considering his current hairstyle, the effect turns a bit more comical than intended. “have i been sleeping this whole time?”

 

mark nods, and jinyoung mumbles “oh shit,” under his breath, keeping his hand over his mouth because he's conscious of his morning breath. “but i don't have a toothbrush! or a change of clothes!”

 

“there's an extra toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet, chill. also, we're not strangers, you can borrow my clothes,” offers mark immediately. jinyoung doesn't have much of an option anyway, so he takes it, and mark has to hunt for clothes of his that'll fit jinyoung. 

 

jinyoung settles for a white tee that's too big for mark, and a pair of jeans (again too large for mark but too nice to give away) with a couple deliberate tears. jinyoung raises his eyebrows as mark hands the jeans to him, because they are simply put, not his style, but he doesn't really have the option of choosing, since he doesn't really possess the structure to fit into any of mark’s skinny jeans.

 

mark thinks his throat feels a little dry when he takes in the sight of jinyoung wearing that tee— _ mark’s  _ tee—that hugs his torso just right, an awkward pout on his face because he very obviously hates the rips in the jeans, his hair in damp curls. mark almost feels a little jealous—why can't  _ he _ look equally good in those clothes?

 

even jackson, who's stuffing his homework into his bookbag as jinyoung makes his entrance, lets out a loud “da-yum!” and responds with a cheesy wink when jinyoung tells him to shut up. the three of them then walk to the mechanical department, where all of them have their first classes for the day, jackson talking about how jinyoung’s probably going to turn so many heads that the rest of his year is going to end up with cricks in their necks for the rest of the day, and also about how maybe jinyoung should probably just wear mark’s clothes all the time.

 

there's a subtle—okay, this is jackson we're talking about, so definitely _ not _ subtle—teasing undertone to that last suggestion that jinyoung brushes off with a laugh. mark scrunches up his nose, almost saying that first off, jinyoung’s wearing the only pair of mark’s clothes that'll fit him, and also, sharing clothes when you don't share a living space is one of those intimate aggravatingly couple-y things. then mark remembers that his very friendship with jinyoung is founded on intimate aggravatingly couple-y things.

 

jinyoung turns to wave at mark as he leaves for his kinematics classroom, with a bright smile and his eyes sparkling, with no dark circles under his eyes and radiating genuine happiness, and the happy glow that fills mark’s chest doesn't disappear for the rest of the day.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, baby! a filler update again, because what did you really expect? :)  
> my exams are over and i'm back to finding time to write, so hooray! (thank god, because i'm running out of prewritten chapters REAL fast)
> 
> Question of the Chapter: jinyoung felt awkward at first about the awful terrace rejection, but heads to mark's dorm to meet him regardless. what does this suggest about how their interactions are developing, about how jinyoung feels about mark?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo guess who decided to start updating weekly :::)))

**_—9 MARCH_ **

**_10:37_ **

  
  


“they're over here, get your useless ass over here, park jinyoung!”

 

“but these aren't the brand i'm looking for, hyung! i checked!” yells jinyoung from the adjacent aisle. going grocery shopping with jaebum is a struggle of the highest order, but being his flatmate, jinyoung really doesn't have a choice.

 

“for real, jinyoung, i swear, this is what you want!” insists jaebum, and jinyoung abandons his aisle to storm down the one jaebum’s standing in, saying, “i swear, jaebum hyung, they aren't—” he stops dead in front of the racks of cans because it turns out, that’s exactly what he was looking for. “oh.”

 

jaebum’s wearing a self-satisfied grin, his face still marginally puffy. he slept in that morning, having to wake up only when jinyoung started complaining at the top of his voice that there was nothing to eat in the apartment and that  _ hyung, you better get the fuck up because i want company to go to the supermarket and if you get up i'll pay by myself. _

 

jinyoung knows that jaebum honestly didn't care about the paying part. they haven't had any time to talk over the last one and a half days, and a lot happens in less than forty-eight hours. 

 

jinyoung’s professor had asked him to meet her over lunch break and jaebum had football practice after class and then they both had work, so they'd only now actually found time to talk. jaebum had been silent on the walk to the supermarket—the caffeine hadn't kicked in yet—but something about going shopping together brings out their inner monsters, and that results in them yelling at each other across aisles. jinyoung believes in the concept of the cheapest brand, whereas jaebum believes in the concept of the best brand, so conflicts are inevitable.

 

“i'm in the mood to cook this weekend, hyung,” remarks jinyoung brightly. “it's been a while since i made spaghetti. also, how’d you feel about chocolate chocolate chip cookies?” jaebum holds up an okay sign, and jinyoung’s humming as he places a can of cocoa powder in the trolley. it takes approximately seven seconds for jaebum to fish the can out and replace it with one of a different brand.

 

“you seem happy,” comments jaebum, as jinyoung skips down the next aisle, eyes skimming over the boxes on the shelves. 

 

jinyoung twirls around and shrugs. “everyone's got those days when they're happy for no reason.”

 

“i'm not complaining,” smiles jaebum, leaning against the handle of the trolley as he lets jinyoung scrutinize the contents a box of chocolate chips.

 

“how is it that you didn't freak out when i didn't come home on thursday?” asks jinyoung suddenly, the thought coming to mind. jinyoung had been so sure that jaebum was going to kill him for not calling to inform him that he was going to be spending the night at mark’s, since jaebum was the most overprotective person jinyoung had ever had the misfortune (or fortune—he still isn’t sure) to meet, but jaebum had been remarkably chill about the entire thing. it threw jinyoung off, made him suspicious, but he hadn't the chance to bring it up until now.

 

“mark’s dormmate texted me,” says jaebum nonchalantly. jinyoung can just about hear how forced the breeziness of the statement is. he decides not to comment on the fact that jaebum is on texting terms with jackson, as fascinating as he finds this new development. however, jaebum catches the look on jinyoung’s face, and opens his mouth to explain, but jinyoung beats him to it, saying, “i get you’re making an effort, i’m not going to say anything, okay?” so jaebum’s defense subsides.

 

the mention of jackson brings a certain thought to jinyoung’s mind, but he files it away, knowing he needs a certain other person in his audience before he can execute his dramatic reveal.

 

“by the way, you know shinhyeo and bongcha broke up?” asks jaebum.

 

jinyoung’s eyes widen. “news to me.” he scoffs amusedly. “less than a week. who would've thunk?” jinyoung had avoided shinhyeo like his life has depended on it, and so he had no clue what had been going on. suddenly, the animosity that he initially felt towards the girl dissipates, without him realizing. “wait, her name was bongcha? that's such a pretty name!”

 

“hmm?” hums jaebum absentmindedly, grabbing another bottle off the shelf and going to place it in the trolley before jinyoung slaps his hand and makes him get a cheaper brand.

 

“bongcha. means the ultimate girl. that's pretty, isn't it?” muses jinyoung, ignoring the red mark on jaebum’s hand and the fact that jaebum is seeing red, literally and figuratively. “why did they break up? did she dump him? please tell me she dumped him.”

 

jaebum decides to ignore his stinging hand because the fact that jinyoung is this eager for revenge is amusing and causes him to smile. “nah, unfortunately. it was mutual.”

 

“damn it,” hisses jinyoung as they wheel the trolley over to the cash registers. the young female cashier smiles at them, although jinyoung thinks that she did smile a little brighter at jaebum. jinyoung attempts to not roll his eyes, at least not too obviously. had he been straight, he'd have actually been a little jealous.

 

they begin walking back to their apartment, holding in their arms a couple bags each, having done enough shopping to keep them going for at least a month and making conversation about this and that.

 

they exchange excitement about new marvel movie that's dropping at the end of the month, bicker about whether spending hours in a lab catching a crick over a microscope is worse than sustaining a burning in your eyes from writing literary analysis' for hours, and wonder whether oranges are called oranges because they are orange or if it's the other way around.

 

jinyoung hands one of his bags to jaebum as they reach their apartment door, making a huge show out of patting his pockets and pretending he's lost the keys just because it infuriates jaebum, who rolls his eyes exasperatedly.

 

a very familiar blond is sitting on their couch, notes on music history spread out around him, face lighting up as soon the other two enter. jinyoung shakes his head, because he knew that giving youngjae a spare key would mean having him drop in whenever he felt like it, but he chose to do it anyway, and this is just the eighteenth time he realized that fact.

 

youngjae chirps a quick hello, walking over to help and taking one bag from each of them. jaebum gives him a quick kiss in greeting, and jinyoung yells “eww!”, sticking his tongue out playfully when jaebum tells him to fuck off. 

 

jinyoung notes the remarkable lack of flustered behavior from either of them, and feels like a proud mother hen. something shifted slightly in jaebum’s and youngjae’s relationship after that fight a week ago, and they seem a little more confident around each other. and now that jinyoung was reminded of that fight—

 

“you two, sit down, we need to have a small talk,” says jinyoung enigmatically, interrupting the ensuing argument over whether to have jajangmyeon or burgers for lunch. 

 

jaebum and youngjae look over at him with identical confused stares, so much in sync that jinyoung’s mind has to take a second to stop reeling. he waves them over to the couch with a solemn expression, just to be dramatic. youngjae scoops up his scattered notes, arranging them in a sloppy pile on the arm of of the sofa, and takes a seat next to jaebum, who's sitting straight to match the supposed seriousness of the situation, a curious eyebrow cocked upwards.

 

jinyoung clasps his hands together, standing in front of the other two, clearing his throat obnoxiously before jaebum tells him to _ spit it out, already.  _

 

jinyoung begins with a benign smile on his face. “good morning, students, and welcome to park jinyoung’s lecture on how to keep a relationship secret, if you happen to be two closeted beings.” youngjae is looking bemused, while jaebum’s mouth is slightly ajar as he attempts to figure out where this is going. 

 

“step one,” jinyoung’s smile suddenly morphs into a frown. “kindly refrain from letting jackson wang witness you sucking face in public.”

 

youngjae lets out a high-pitched “what?!” while jaebum stiffens, scarlet flooding his face as he interprets the words that just came out of jinyoung’s mouth, his head falling into his hands. jinyoung feels the slightest trace of satisfaction, having executed his dramatic plan perfectly. he planned this moment down to the syllable, revising and re-revising how to reveal the news, trying to find the most dramatic way to do that, because breaking news like this normally is not part of being park jinyoung.

 

jaebum rips his hands away from his face, talking a mile a minute, half of which is incomprehensible, so jinyoung decides to be a good friend and clap his hand over jaebum’s mouth so he doesn't pass out due to extreme loss of breath. youngjae looks stunned, asking a squeaky “how?”

 

“he was at starbucks that day last week, the one a few blocks down from work, and he saw you two walk past,” elucidates jinyoung, a smile playing across his lips as he takes his hand away from jaebum’s mouth. “honestly, of all the people and all the streets in all the world, jackson wang had to walk down seventh to see you two sucking face.”

 

“technically, lots of people walking down seventh saw us sucking face—” begins youngjae, a tinge defensively, and jaebum weakly protests, “first of all, we weren’t ‘sucking face’...”

 

“my point is,” jinyoung raises his voice to drown out the other two, who are speaking in overlapping tones. “that he found out, okay? but you can chill. he said he won’t tell anyone. swore on his honor and all. so did mark.”

 

“how do you trust jackson?” questions jaebum, eyes narrowed. he’s doing his stupid x-ray thing again and it’s making jinyoung a little warm under the collar. youngjae looks like he would roll his eyes at jaebum, but is already a little too shell-shocked to react.

 

“i trust mark. mark trusts jackson. simple math, jaebum hyung,” says jinyoung dismissively. it’s true. it’s weird, because by the standards of time, he has known mark for a little under a month, but life works strangely sometimes, and that has resulted in jinyoung trusting mark.

 

and yes, jinyoung did see that exaggerated eye-roll that jaebum did, but he also knows that with conversations after statements like that, it’s best to just remember that he has the right to remain silent.

 

—

 

— **_14 MARCH_ **

**_17:56_ **

  
  


jinyoung pushes his sweaty bangs out of his forehead, tilting his head back to take a sip from his water bottle. the cool liquid runs down his throat, soothing his burning chest. he’s danced his heart out in the last one and a half hours. he hadn’t practiced during their one month break, so the first dance team practice of this half of the term has worn him out. his muscles are aching, but he feels good. dancing is something that he’s done since he was little, though never having gone for actual classes. his mother would reprimand him for his inability to stand still, but it all paid off.

 

he switches the lights of the practice room off, being the last one to leave, his satchel feeling unnaturally heavy on his shoulder. he's definitely pulled a few muscles, and now needs to remember to use a hotpack once he gets back, which, considering his laziness and memory, is highly unlikely.

 

he begins his slow walk to the college gates, eyes drinking in the blissfully pink sky. it brings out the poet in him, who's thinking up a rhyme for ‘canvas’ by the time he reaches his cycle. he groans slightly at seeing it, unlocking it and strapping his satchel into the back.

 

he mentally curses jaebum and his environmentally friendly streak, following up by trying to convince himself that what they're doing will pay off one day. one day, when the world should've burned down but didn't, people will acknowledge their efforts, though they'll be long dead by then. at least, jinyoung hopes. he doesn't want to witness the world burning down when his feet are still planted on it, as selfish as that sounds.

 

he pumps the pedals with as little force as he can to keep it moving, cruising through the roads at a leisurely pace. the hum of wheels, interspersed with the occasional horn, drones in his ears, his thoughts satisfyingly blank. there's a small smile on his face. he's had a good day.

 

he pushes his key into the lock, turning it tiredly and letting the door swing open on its own. jaebum is sitting on the couch with youngjae on his lap, both of them doing their own work, sharing a set of earphones. youngjae has sheafs of notes on his hands, his pen moving over the paper quickly, jotting down notes here and there. two notebooks rest on the arm of the sofa, with jaebum copying the contents of one into the other. the arrangement works because youngjae is right-handed and jaebum is left-handed. a vague thought about perfect puzzle pieces flits through jinyoung’s mind as he steps inside, and jaebum looks up, acknowledging his presence. 

 

“jinyoung-ah, how was dance practice?” asks jaebum, and only then does youngjae tear his eyes away from his notes, breaking into a grin, eyes curving into crescents as registers the arrival of his best friend.

 

the addressed drops his satchel to the floor with a thud, stretching with a satisfied smile. “‘twas good,” he nods, crossing the room and peering at youngjae’s notes. “jongin’s putting together a killer piece for euphoria, and i think we might even have a shot at winning a prize this time.” kim jongin was the leader of the dance team, a dance prodigy if there ever was one, whose one set aim from the moment he joined the dance team was to win the choreo competition at euphoria, the cultural festival of k.n.u. jinyoung thought it was a stupid aim to have, especially considering jongin’s fine set of skills, but the words ‘personal grudge’ were more than enough to clear things up for him.

 

“that's cool!” youngjae’s eyes shine and jinyoung ruffles his hair with a small chuckle.

 

“i'm going to take a shower, do you want to order in tonight? we haven't done that for a few weeks.” living off cheap ramyeon and cafeteria food is okay in jinyoung’s books, but today he doesn't have the energy to do anything but laze around, maybe catch up on descendants of the sun, that youngjae’s been making his watch. he still has a couple episodes left.

 

“actually, sit down”—youngjae elbows jaebum in the ribs, cutting him off with a significant look—“actually, you know what, go take a shower.”

 

jinyoung shoots the other two a confused look as they have a non-verbal battle with their eyes, but finally shrugs, heading to the bathroom. 

 

jinyoung turns up the heat a little higher than he needs, letting the drops sting the skin over his worn muscles. he stands in there for just like enough for jaebum and youngjae to not worry if he's drowned himself (or basically until the hot water runs out), and gets out, drying himself and slipping on a loose t-shirt with a couple holes near the shoulder and tracks that he's been wearing for the last three nights.

 

he walks back to the living room, freezing after realizing that he's evidently interrupted a conversation. he did hear their hushed voices on his way over, but he couldn't decipher what they had been saying, and now that he's in hearing range, their discussion has ceased and they're staring at jinyoung with looks of determination and uncertainty, youngjae’s expression the negative of jaebum’s. jinyoung suddenly feels his skin crawling, because he knows something bad is coming, but he doesn't know what. all kinds of scenarios run through his head in rapid succession, each one a little worse than the last.

 

_ jaebum’s moving out. _

_ not possible. _

_ they’re breaking up. _

_ again, not possible. _

_ they’re getting married. _

_ what the absolute fuck. _

 

“sit down,” says jaebum firmly. it's less of a suggestion and more of an order, jinyoung meekly obliges, folding his hands on his lap. “what's going on?”

 

jaebum crosses his arms in front of him as he and youngjae stand at equal distances away from the couch. “we just wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

“i'm getting déjà vu now, only i'm pretty sure jackson wang didn't catch me making out with my boyfriend,” snickers jinyoung, hoping to diffuse some of the tension in the air. youngjae rolls his eyes. jinyoung has brought it up so many times that isn't even funny now (jaebum would like to know when it ever was funny), but he still gets a kick out of it. “of course, for that to happen, i would have to have a boyfriend in the first place.”

 

“that's not why we want to talk to you.” jaebum pinches his nose exasperatedly. “also, i call bullshit on that last statement.” jinyoung begins to argue, and jaebum plows on. “look, we're not going to go get books from the library for you anymore.”

 

“what?!” splutters jinyoung. “but you have to!” he had been staying away from the library like it housed the plague. the chances of running into shinhyeo were simply too great, and jinyoung would like to live the rest of his life without having to run into that redhead any more than he can help it.

 

“you know, half the times we go, he isn't even there,” informs youngjae. “and honestly, we wouldn't mind going and getting you books if you didn't have to borrow and return several different ones every _ day. _ for real, i’ve had to go to the library thirty-one times in the last one week, and i’m guessing that’s just my half.” jaebum nods in agreement.

 

jinyoung huffs angrily, “i have a lot of work, i can't help that!” 

 

“you can’t avoid him forever,” reminds jaebum, his lips set in a grim line.

 

_ but i can try. _

 

“hyung!” whines jinyoung, but he can’t argue further, because jaebum has just put into words what jinyoung was afraid of. that at some point or the other, he’s going to have to cross paths with shinhyeo, look him in the eye, and proceed to live. he just can’t see that happening, so instead he turns to youngjae because he knows that jaebum won’t budge. “jae, come on.”

 

“look, it might seem difficult at first, but you’re going to just have to get past one awkward meeting, after that, his presence just go over your head. it won’t affect you.” youngjae walks over to the couch and rests his arm on jinyoung’s back, only to have him shrug it off in offence. “chances are, he’ll want to ignore you as much as you want to ignore him, so it’s okay. you can move on like nothing ever happened.”

 

“but what was his damage here, honestly?” a bitter laugh leaves jinyoung’s mouth, the absence of humor stark and salty. “nothing. this absolutely means nothing to him. my feelings mean nothing to him.”

 

_ n-o-t-h-i-n-g. _

_ with a capital NO. _

_ he’d made that much clear. _

_ clearer than necessary. _

 

“your feelings mean something to you, and that’s why you’re going to have to get over this irrational fear over running into him. for your own sake,” says jaebum firmly.

 

“are you kidding me? i just started sleeping full nights again! this is just going to throw that victory away.” jinyoung adds some extra pleading power to his eyes, hoping they’ll drop the subject and then they can sit and argue about what to order for dinner.

 

“i think you’ll sleep better if you get rid of the fear of having to face shinhyeo,” remarks jaebum, his head cocked to the side as though daring jinyoung to argue with him. jinyoung hates being caught in an argument with jaebum, because jaebum has this annoying habit about being right about things with the least effort possible. 

 

jinyoung presses his lips together, his mind thrown in conflict. he hates to admit that they have a point, and he hates to think about a situation when he has to breathe the same air as shinhyeo voluntarily. youngjae makes a second attempt, putting his arm loosely on jinyoung’s shoulders, and this time he doesn’t shrug it off. “remember what you told me when i was getting bullied back in school?” asks youngjae, and jinyoung looks up from his hands. he nods slowly. he remembers that. he had been ready to go kick the kids who were giving youngjae a hard time himself, but he felt that it was important to teach youngjae to stand up for himself. after a ton of advice and bugging, he had finally gotten through to him. “you quoted some dude, i forget his name now, but apparently he said ‘stand up to your obstacles and do something about them. you will find they haven’t half the strength you think they have.’”

 

“how do you remember that?” marvels jinyoung. he won’t admit that he had actually searched up ‘inspirational quotes about standing up for yourself’ back then, but that quote from norman vincent peale had struck a chord with him, too.

 

“it’s scribbled on the front page of my lyric notebook,” smiles youngjae. “it popped up in my facebook feed a few months after you said it, so i wrote it down just in case i might need it again. i think you’re the one who needs it now.”

 

“you really do,” emphasizes jaebum, and jinyoung rolls his eyes at him, but he’s slowly caving. he’s very easily persuaded, especially by certain people. gradually, the idea of him walking with his spine straight and his head held high doesn’t seem all that improbable. he taps his fingers on his palm as he runs over his pros and cons once mentally. it sounds like a crazy idea, but jaebum’s right. he can’t avoid shinhyeo forever.

 

youngjae’s looking at him so expectantly. jinyoung can see himself reflected in youngjae’s eyes, and doesn’t want to let him down. jaebum’s looking at him with a similar look, but jinyoung knows he can’t make promises he’s not sure he can keep. so he goes with the most diplomatic set of words, the ones he’s used way too many times in his life. “i’ll try, okay?”

 

that’s good enough for youngjae, who squeals and traps jinyoung in a huge hug, laughing with glee. “in complete honesty, i wasn’t all for this intervention at first, ‘cause i thought you’d get really mad, but you didn’t and i’m proud of you, hyung!” admits youngjae in one breath, his words smushing into one another. jinyoung’s not sure how to react to that, but youngjae’s happiness is contagious, so he finds himself smiling in response. also, he can’t seem to digest the fact that they thought he was almost so far gone that they had to hold an ‘intervention’ for him.

 

jaebum walks back to the couch, a grudgingly impressed smile resting on his lips. jinyoung kicks out at him as he takes the seat adjacent to him, pouting, “i’m not hugging you.”

 

jaebum laughs softly. “please don’t attempt to act cute.” he ruffles jinyoung’s hair and slaps him on the side of the head, the typical jaebum way of expressing affection, so jinyoung just grins.

 

facing shinhyeo—honestly, what’s the worst thing that could happen?

 

==

 

— **_15 MARCH_ **

**_13:43_ **

  
  


mark’s walking through a large field, the grass soft under his feet. there are flowers popping up near his feet with every step he takes, and the sun has washed over the field, giving it a soft golden glow. suddenly, a bee stings his arm, and he hisses in pain. he can hear someone calling him, and he turns around slowly, to see jackson standing several meters away from him, screeching his name. only his voice sounds eerily familiar to his e.d. professor’s. mark is about to compliment jackson’s impression, but a swarm of bees has found its way to his arm and the agony is steadily becoming unbearable.

 

his eyes snap open painfully, his head slipping off his arm and causing his chin to land on his hardwood desk with a dull thunk. the ache spreads across his jaw rapidly, and he blinks quickly, his eyes getting used to the light. the light is suddenly blocked by professor chang looming over his desk, bearing down on him with a scowl etched across her face. he flinches in realization.

 

_ fuck. _

 

he pushes his glasses back to the bridge of his nose from where they've slid.

 

“do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

 

mark’s struck dumb, disoriented and unable to form a single coherent thought. all that's running through his head is a string of swear words, and he's pretty sure that's _ not _ what his professor wants to hear.

 

“sorry,” he mumbles, swiping his sleeve over his sleep-tainted face clumsily, feeling like his mouth has been stuffed with cotton. 

 

in his defense, he didn't mean to fall asleep in class. but then again, who really does? but it's not his fault. he's been sacrificing his sleep to study for his master’s entrance exams, and he can't help the fact that e.d. really is as dull as dishwater. also, he'd had the unfortunate pleasure of snagging the seat near the window, where the sun’s buttery rays shone down on his caramel mop, the post-lunch fatigue doing nothing but adding to the drowsiness of the entire situation.

 

“oh, you don't have to be sorry, tuan-sshi, you can simply leave class and complete your nap. i really do apologize for waking you up.” condescension is written deep into the words as professor chang spits the words out with something close to spite. she's never liked mark much, and so she doesn't seem to think much before rushing to reprimand him. however, in this case, he concedes that she’s justified.

 

“ah, no. i'm really sorry. i'll uh, pay attention.” he looks down at his textbook which he's accidentally drooled on, flipping a couple pages dumbly. mark’s relatively smarter side has a habit of shutting down when he needs it most, like when he needs to make excuses to get himself out of situations that he seems to get himself into rather frequently. a couple snickers are heard through the dead silence, and mark feels his face heating up. 

 

“no, really, do leave. you certainly won't hear me complaining,” continues the professor, her words engineered to cut through mark like blades, and he squirms uncomfortably in his seat, wishing to wake up all over again.

 

“i'm really sorry, professor, it won't happen again.” the desperation is laced into his voice. mark needs to keep his attendance up, and he's already on the verge of losing points there. if the rest of his life hadn't been on the line, he'd have gladly picked up his bookbag and got the fuck out of there. (okay, maybe not _ the rest of his life _ , but don't judge mark. he's got his dramatic streak just like the rest of us.)

 

“it certainly won't.” her beady eyes glare holes into his head as a warning. “and to make sure, i’d like to see you in my office after your classes get over. i think sorting out some files for me will serve as an apt reminder that falling asleep is not tolerated in this class.”

 

he nods in resignation, training his eyes on his textbook that is very obviously turned to the wrong page. he's not sure how red his face is, but he certainly doesn't want to look into a mirror right now. he swears mentally at his sadist of a professor as she walks back to the front of the room to resume her lecture.

 

he really does hate her.

 

he dawdles as much as he can once his literature lecture at the end of the day is over, winding up at the professor’s office at around three-forty. only once he sees the amount of paperwork that she has for him to sort, does he really realize how much he  _ really _ hates her.

 

“i think you should get done in a couple hours, yes?” professor chang asks, her eyebrows raised as mark nods silently, mourning the loss of his studying/sleeping time.

 

he gets to work with a sigh, first sorting out the assignment papers by batch and then tabulating the marks for each paper. his mind is not at its full capacity, so he makes a couple mistakes, having to go back and calculate all over again. the worst part is that the more mistakes he makes, the more frustrated he gets, and the end result of that is even more mistakes. 

 

professor chang sits at her desk the whole time, watching over mark like a wannabe bird of prey. she's well-known for her rigorous punishments, but the unfairness of this particular one makes mark think that she must have reserved this one especially for him. he feels like stabbing his eye with the black pen in his hand and then proceeding to slow-cook his eye over the flame of a candle would be less torture.

 

it takes him all of six hours. at the end of it all, his back is aching and he's seeing nothing but numbers scrawled in red in his field of vision. his glasses weigh down on his nose and there’s a clear sheen of sweat over his forehead. the professor gives him nothing but an approving nod and another reminder of what will happen if he's caught sleeping in class again at the end of his efforts, and he drags himself back to his dorm with tired feet.

 

he plugs his phone into the charger and the screen lights up, displaying a calm screen before the notifications flood in at a disturbingly fast pace. there are twenty messages and a few missed calls from jackson, who he couldn't inform about the punishment since his phone had died at lunch. the calls and messages from him are concentrated around three-thirty, and his final message informs mark that he found out from one of their batchmates about what happened in e.d., and that he shouldn't worry about it, and that he has a date later so could mark please excuse him for taking the car for the evening.

 

there are also a few missed calls from junmyeon, among other notifications, but that's what gets mark panicking, because he suddenly registers that he's late for work, and jackson’s got the car. it's like his entire day has been proof of murphy's law, and he does not appreciate being made the universe’s guinea pig.

 

he tries to call jackson, but the stupid fucker’s put his phone on silent, and so mark punches the end call button with extra force, then apologizes to the phone for taking his anger out on it. talking to inanimate objects… no, mark’s fine, thank you.

 

he leaves his phone on charge, not bothering to change into his work clothes as he sprints from the dorm, having to stop every few minutes to breathe. he makes it there as quickly as he can manage, the muscles in his already aching feet feeling like they're burning up, slowly dissolving into non-existence. his head is spinning, he has several stitches in his chest and the back of his shirt is dotted with droplets of sweat.

 

before entering the café, mark takes a second to smooth down his hair and catch his breath, pushing open the door and walking in like every cell in his body is not screaming in torment. there are a few groups of people sitting inside, and mark instantly feels guilty because junmyeon would've had to tend to all of these customers himself, since kunpimook and yugyeom don't work on fridays. an old theater down the road opened after renovation last weekend, and all of the employees at the café had been celebrating for the added business, but none for the added work.

 

junmyeon looks up from his post at the espresso machine, smiling as he notices mark. the brunet immediately stumbles over, putting on his apron and explaining why he couldn't make it earlier, no detail forgotten as the entire story spills out of him, punctuated by a few exclamations that _ yes, my teacher is satan, how did you guess _ ?

 

“mark, if this is getting a little difficult for you, you can switch to a day shift, you know? you should get your sleep, especially if you have exams and stuff.” mark knows he doesn't deserve the concern in junmyeon’s voice.

 

“that's okay, hyung, i'm really okay,” croaks out mark. he coughs slightly and reaches for a glass of water. the word  _ liar _ is resonating in his head, but he chooses to ignore it. “the week’s just been a little hectic, it's okay.”

 

“i'm just saying, the offer’s open if you want it,” shrugs junmyeon, hands moving fluidly across the endless row of syrups as he prepares a sugary sweet concoction called aphrodite’s bliss. “of course, you might have to work a slightly shorter shift, in the evening too, so the pay might slightly drop, so…”

 

“hyung, that honestly doesn't matter to me,” says mark quickly. the pay was the last thing on his mind. 

 

in fact, it's been the last thing on his mind since a little less than one and a half years ago, when he'd accidentally overheard a conversation between junmyeon and yixing in the backroom, a little after café 247 had opened.

 

_ “i know it's difficult, but it's something we have to do,” yixing had said, and the anguish in his voice had been pronounced enough to make mark freeze, his hand almost making contact with the doorknob. _

 

_ “i get that. it just makes me feel really bad sometimes.” junmyeon’s voice sounded a little shaky, and it hit mark a little too hard. he'd already gotten a little attached to both managers, and they babied him to no end. _

 

_ “i just hate having to let someone go, okay?” continued junmyeon, and there was a sad chuckle following that. “look at me, i can't even the say the word ‘fire’.” _

 

_ “look, business is a little tight right now, but hopefully, it's going to get better. i know we barely have any employees, but the ones we have work hard. we'll get through it, okay? stay strong.” _

 

_ mark was stumbling away from the door at this point. his original intention was to ask for a raise, considering the awful night shift hours, but now he didn't know how he'd have been able to live with himself if he’d brought up something like what. _

 

mark’s eyes unconsciously flit around the café. it had seemed much larger back then, due to lack of enough furniture not nearly as nice as the current ones, the frequent lack of customers. there had been only seven employees, five on the day shift and two on the night shift, all of whom had left at some point or the other. well, all except mark.

 

the café grew to be a little like mark’s home, as cliché as it sounded. the comfortable music spilling into the air through the small speakers, almost always soft rock from twenty years ago, the smiles that the frequent customers always have for him, junmyeon’s habit of predicting what a customer wants, kunpimook’s perky yells constantly sounding in his ears, and all of this happening in the middle of the night… mark had become used to all of that, and if there was one thing that he really was resistant to, it was change.

 

mark didn't have to work five shifts a week, nine to two on monday and friday nights, and eleven to five on the other days. he did it because he liked it. and also, he got more college work done at the café than ever possible back at the dorm. he got a huge amount of freedom, he had the best boss ever, and the hazelnut syrup was his drug, so what did he really have to complain about?

 

the exam was a couple-months struggle, that's it, and he'd be back to usual after that. provided he cleared the exam, of course. he'd been so sure that he'd be able to at first, breezing through chapters, but that was only the first three days. after that, he's just had way too much caffeine to be considered healthy, and  doubts have begun eating away at his confidence. he keeps reminding himself,  _ just a couple months. you'll be able to make it,  _ but he won't admit that the words echoing in his head are slowly fading away, right along with his resolve.

 

his little reverie is interrupted by a lilting voice of a person exiting the kitchen. it turns out to be yixing, a tray of freshly made cupcakes iced with buttercream is held in his gloved hands, and he smiles when he notices mark. “hey, you. why were you late?”

 

“punishment for sleeping in class,” allows mark, not wanting to recount the entire thing all over again. “how come you’re still here, hyung?” he's never known yixing to work a single minute more or less in all the time he’s known him.

 

“decided to keep this idiot company,” explains yixing, nodding at junmyeon, who relieves the other of the tray with an affectionate eye-roll. a new wave of guilt washes over mark. yixing watches as junmyeon walks over to the display case and arranges the cupcakes neatly. he’s so clearly smitten, and mark can’t help finding the whole scene cute.

 

“either way, i have three more batches of cupcakes inside, so… yeah.” yixing snaps out of it, realizing he has an audience, and quickly walks back inside the kitchen. mark sidles over to help junmyeon, but the older is already done with his task.

 

“so… yixing hyung…?” the question hangs, for mark doesn’t know how exactly to ask whether junmyeon finally got through to yixing.

 

junmyeon blinks at him a couple times, as though having forgotten his little rant from a couple weeks ago, before breaking into a bright smile when he suddenly registers the question. “oh! that. right.” he pauses. “better, i guess? he’s obsessively baking instead now, but at least that’s good for business, right?” he adds in a fond chuckle, shaking his head. “so i would say we’re okay.”

 

mark smiles. at least someone’s okay.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> djsakjdkasj why is this so filler i dont even understand  
> i promise it gets better ugH
> 
> Question of the Chapter: what do you expect to happen when jinyoung meets shinhyeo?  
> Writer's question: who's your favorite character and why?   
> :)


	13. Chapter 13

**_—17 MARCH_ **

**_14:27_ **

  
  


jinyoung takes a cautious step, almost expecting the ground to give out under him. it doesn't.

 

he steps completely inside the library. it's just as he remembers it. of course, jinyoung didn't really expect it to radically change in the two weeks he's stayed away. he hopes it missed him as much as he missed it.

 

he feels a little giddy with excitement. the smell of books makes him feel high, and there's happiness bubbling in his chest as he stuffs down a giggle. or two or three. he peeks behind a shelf to check the librarian’s counter, and to his blissful fortune, shinhyeo is not sitting behind it.

 

he takes the stairs up to the first floor, his usual hideout. he walks down each aisle, scanning the titles and running his fingers over the spines of the books. books are a part of him, and having kept away from the library for so long, he wanted to take every book on every shelf, settle himself by the window on one of those plush beanbags and read for hours.

 

he's reading the blurb of a thriller-mystery novel when someone taps him on the shoulder. he whips his head around, cricking his neck in the process. “shit!” he hisses, placing his hand to his neck in pain. damn, he's really twisted it good.

 

“sorry! sorry, i really didn't mean to startle you.” the voice sounds all too familiar, and jinyoung almost groans, cracking an eye open only to meet blatant confirmation in the face of won shinhyeo.  _ for real? i was having a good day! _

 

“what?” snaps jinyoung harshly, feeling no remorse as he does so. he removes his hand from his neck, but a muscle twinges painfully. he ignores it, proceeding to glare at shinhyeo with all the venom he possesses. he's generally very forgiving—in fact, youngjae says he's too forgiving sometimes—, but not today. he has no plans to forgive shinhyeo, and will not for a very long time.

 

the literature ace has dyed his hair since the last time jinyoung saw him, which was two days ago. his hair is a navy blue now, and jinyoung hates to admit that had this happened over two weeks ago, he'd have been all for this new development.

 

“i get why you're angry. you deserve to be,” says shinhyeo quietly.

 

_ no fucking kidding. _

 

jinyoung cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “really? had no clue.” he flips through the book in his hand with such speed that the words blur. “if you'll excuse me, i'm reading.” something about seeing shinhyeo in such proximity has triggered all the hurt, the anger, everything that's been lying dormant for a little while. long enough to lull jinyoung into a fake sense of peace. suddenly he regrets stepping foot in the library. he _ just _ started sleeping full nights,  _ goddammit _ !

 

“look, i know you can't stand the sight of me, let alone the idea of _ talking  _ to me, but i’m imploring you, hear me out.” his voice washes over jinyoung like cool ocean waves, and jinyoung suddenly wonders if shinhyeo can charmspeak. he’s not all that swayed, but he’s not walking away either.

 

“explain why i should,” says jinyoung brusquely, looking up at shinhyeo, who's standing a good three inches taller than him. long ago, or so it feels, it had been so easy for him to fall right into those coffee eyes. now, he feels nothing. nothing but a bitter pang, bitter as black coffee, that pains as awfully as his twisted neck.

 

“because we’re both adults who can have a sensible conversation, and also, i know you wouldn't want to miss hearing me admitting that i might have made a mistake.” 

 

_ might have made _ —

_ what?! _

_ a mistake?! _

_ what the fuck’s that supposed to mean? _

 

jinyoung freezes, stare transfixed as these words register in his mind. the other takes it as his cue to go on. “look, that day? i panicked. i said all the wrong things. i actually had formulated what to say, so as to inhibit unnecessary damage to your feelings, but i took one glimpse at you and blanked out, and said the last things i should've said.” shinhyeo gestures with his hands, punctuating his words to give them some extra value. “i screwed up. there's no other way to put it. i really do regret that. and i'd like to put forth my sincere apology, and hope against hope that you might just forgive me.”

 

“feels more like a pity apology,” remarks jinyoung dryly. “i don't need your pity, shinhyeo.” 

 

_ i don’t need a lot of this.  _

_ i didn’t need your rejection. _

_ i don’t care if your apology comes with the rejection. _

_ i’d rather do without either. _

 

“it’s not pity.” jinyoung marvels at how even-toned shinhyeo continues to be, wishing he could keep control over his own voice like that. they’re in a library, so even though jinyoung continues to whisper, he can’t prevent his anger from bleeding into his words, quite unlike shinhyeo, who continues, saying, “i’m wholeheartedly apologetic, and there aren’t many ways that i can put that sentence, so it’s up to you if you want to believe me or not.”

 

“i’m wondering why though,” says jinyoung, eyebrows drawing together in contemplation. he’s giving the suspicious thoughts in his head a voice for a change. “why would you come and talk to me? why would you apologize?” he raises his eyebrows. “why would you acknowledge my existence when you made it so clear that i fit nowhere in your world?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “anything else you have to say, shinhyeo?”

 

shinhyeo’s adam’s apple bobs. “i’m taking the honesty route out here, okay? and before you say anything, hear me out until the end.” he takes a deep breath. “i told you i made a mistake with what i said to you, and that’s because i really do mean that. i don’t know why, but after that day, it was like i couldn’t get you out of my thoughts. it scared me, but even though i’d properly talked to you only a couple times, you were really good company, and i...regret saying those words because now i can properly see that i didn’t mean them at all. i mean... quite the opposite.”

 

_ the opposite? of what? rejecting me? _

_ that would be… _

_ no way. _

 

“i’m calling bullshit,” says jinyoung bluntly after a long few seconds. the words don’t even seem to register in his mind. his instincts are locked in an intense battle at the moment, half of them telling him to believe shinhyeo and the other half telling him to walk the fuck away  _ right now  _ before he gets himself even more hurt.

 

“the amount that i lamented over replying to you like that, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom,” resumes shinhyeo calmly. “my thoughts got a little deviant, and i dismissed them as a simple longing for affection, just a basic hankering after someone who likes me, even though a miniscule part of me knew that i was just to dissimulate the truth.”

 

something clicks in jinyoung’s mind. “that’s why you… bongcha…?”

 

“yeah,” says shinhyeo softly, pleading guilty. “i thought being with someone else who liked me would get you out of my thoughts, but it was worse, because everything just reminded me that bongcha wasn’t you. and that’s when i came to the conclusion that i...i like you, jinyoung. and i’m serious, you’re going to have to believe me.”

 

_ no. _

_ i don’t believe you. _

_ not now. _

_ not in a million years. _

 

jinyoung searches for some hint of betrayal of true emotions in shinhyeo’s face, but comes up with nothing. he almost wants to tell him that _ ha ha, the joke was hilarious, you can switch off the hidden camera now _ , but he can’t, because all the evidence points towards the negative of that theory. no one is that good an actor, and shinhyeo might have been an asshole, but jinyoung knows isn’t that much of an asshole. 

 

_ he’d never play with a person’s feelings, right? _

_ for real? this fucker totally would. _

_ no, he wouldn’t. what sick-ass motherfucker would derive pleasure in messing up a person’s thoughts over and over? _

_ probably the one in front of you. _

_ no. _

_ oh, yes. _

_ no fucking way. _

 

“so you apologized so you could proceed to...confess?” jinyoung squeaks out, his uncertainty leaching into his voice. he thinks he should be feeling something, anything right now, at this stunning new development, but he just feels a little hollow. he’s played out this moment in his head so many times, and yet he doesn’t feel any of the emotions he thought he’d feel. and there's something ridiculous about this that makes him think that it's going too good to be true.

 

“that was the original plan, but i heard you have a boyfriend?” shinhyeo’s demeanor has suddenly changed. it’s colder by a couple degrees now, and jinyoung’s caught off-guard. again. what is with him and running into situations that turn out in the way furthest from how he thought he’d go? that’s when the guilt washes over him with strength of a tsunami.

 

_ oh shit. fuck. xnewucnuinqewucn. _

_ jinyoung.exe has permanently stopped functioning. _

_ seriously? you knew this was coming. _

 

“mark tuan? and a year? and still, there was no doubt that you liked me. you didn't repudiate it, you still aren't. what’s that about, jinyoung? i think an explanation is in order, don’t you think?” shinhyeo’s tone has slipped into one vaguely testy now.

 

jinyoung sighs in resignation. he knew this day was coming, but somewhere along the way, he just forgot to keep worrying. he thought that shinhyeo would just dismiss the piece of information and move on because it was obvious that he really didn’t really care about jinyoung, but due to this startling turn of events, jinyoung feels like he owes shinhyeo an explanation. “look, it’s not what you think, okay? that’s not what happened. mark and i met at an amusement park, not that long ago.”

 

_ are you  _ actually _ telling the truth? _

_ you’re justified. this’ll clear your name. _

_ you’re probably going to regret this later. _

_ we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. _

 

“when?” interjects shinhyeo immediately.

 

“around a month ago.” shinhyeo’s eyebrows shoot up, and jinyoung nods, “i know. but what happened was that we started talking, kinda became friends. and then some people turned up, and they expected to see mark on a date, and he didn’t want to be humiliated, so i just pretended to be his fake boyfriend for a day. i was just, helping him out, you know?” he does his best to not trip over his words, speaking as clear as he can to make sure the other knows that he’s telling the truth.

 

there's an excruciating pause. “and that just escalated?” shinhyeo’s tone has softened slightly, his frown relaxing a bit when jinyoung gives him a small helpless nod. “that’s honestly what happened? he’s your fake boyfriend?”

 

“yeah, that’s what happened. i swear, i’m telling the truth, but you can’t tell anyone, okay?” jinyoung pleads silently with his eyes. all this was supposed to be a secret, but shinhyeo deserved to know. it just wasn’t fair if jinyoung lied here. it wouldn’t make anyone look good in this situation. also, he knows that if the situation had been reversed, he'd be going crazy about the explanation, and definitely wouldn't have kept this calm.

 

“i didn't hear anything,” shrugs shinhyeo.

 

“so… you saying you liked me was a lie? the dramatic build-up? to get me to let my guard down?” jinyoung feels a little burned as he voices the thought. “that wasn't very honourable.”

 

“that? no,” shinhyeo lets out a small laugh laced with something close to belated relief. “i was as earnest as i sounded. i'd like to give… us a shot.”

 

jinyoung is still wondering why he isn't jumping to the offer. “i… don't know.”

 

“is this because of  _ mark tuan _ ?” 

 

_ wow, bitter much?  _ somehow the amount of sardonic emphasis that he puts on mark's name sets jinyoung off just the slightest, but he doesn't show it. “well, a lot of people do seem to think we're together—”

 

“so break up with him,” says shinhyeo simply. “and make it impactful. dramatic. bold. public. so everyone can know that you're together no more.”

 

_ that...doesn’t seem like a good idea. _

_ you’ve liked this boy for so long, are you turning down your chance to be with him? _

_ he’s being unreasonable, why should you have to fake-break up with mark? _

_ you can’t look like you’re cheating or something. _

_ but this is stupid. _

_ maybe just finish hearing shinhyeo out first? _

 

“why does it have to be dramatic?” wonders the other, his eyebrows drawn together slightly reflecting his hesitance to shinhyeo's abrupt suggestion, and a corner of his mouth half turned up in amusement, because of the way—reminiscent of a rabid publicist—that shinhyeo had put it.

 

“the world runs on drama. no publicity is negative publicity, jinyoung,” remarks shinhyeo cheekily. “give people something to talk about. it has accelerates the speed of people finding out.”

 

“wouldn't that mean i would have to pretend i hate him after that and not talk to him?” questions jinyoung, face contorting in distaste. drama really isn’t his style. he likes to maintain a peaceful existence.

 

“what's your damage anyway?” shinhyeo raises his eyebrows. jinyoung almost wants to laugh out loud, because he’s used the words  _ what’s his damage?  _ too many times in the last week when it came to ranting about shinhyeo, and having the question thrown back at him by the person he associated with it seems almost hilariously ironic, because in his case, yeah, jinyoung would sustain quite a bit of damage. “after all, you've only known him a month, and you're just fake boyfriends anyway. no skin off anyone's nose.”

 

_ but do you not get the point, we're fake boyfriends.  _ the phrase came to mean so much. and of all the different ways this could go, jinyoung would like to keep talking to mark. mark's been there for him. mark is funny and nice and comfortable to sleep next to. mark knows all of jinyoung and is still friends with him, that in itself being a miracle. long story short, mark matters. a lot.

 

yet, jinyoung does not quite know how to put that into words. “but i do want to keep talking to him.”

 

“that'll just turn into excessive unnecessary drama. trust me, pretend to break his heart and make sure everyone sees it, and then no one's going to say all that much when they see us together.” shinhyeo seems far too nonchalant and supportive of this idea for jinyoung and his internal turmoil. “or have him pretend to break your heart. the point is, end it.”

 

“but i doubt he'd agree to the whole theatric break up scene.” jinyoung's voice has reduced to an almost inaudible volume, which is really low, considering it was library level in the first place. “to be honest, i don't want to go through that either.”

 

he can't even imagine the conversation.  _ “hey, hyung, do you mind letting me dump you in front of the whole college because i want to go out with that asshole who broke my heart two weeks ago?” “yeah, sure, no problem, knock yourself out.”  _ jinyoung cringes at having formulated that exchange in his head. there's a very clear voice in his head that's informing him exactly how this entire situation is going to turn out, and for once, he's listening. he's believing.

 

and when jinyoung tells mark about this, what's mark going to say? he's going to say shinhyeo's a drama-crazed, fickle-minded, bratty psychopath. he's going to say jinyoung is crazy for ever liking a drama-crazed, fickle-minded, bratty psychopath in the first place. 

 

“you don't want to?”

 

“no, i don't,” says jinyoung, firmer this time. “i don't want to stop talking to him. what's my damage? a lot, that's what.” besides, another voice in his head is going off on a tangent about how having mark as his fake boyfriend is a thousand times better than if shinhyeo was his actual boyfriend.

 

shinhyeo freezes, glaring like he can't believe what jinyoung just said. the other can't even bear to look him in the eye. shinhyeo's voice is ice-cold when he utters his next words. “make a choice: him or me.”

 

_ oh, please. the fact that you asked that question made it easy. _

 

and now, jinyoung can't even bring himself to speak. because how can you tell someone to their face that you _ don't _ choose them? especially when the faint thought that things could actually be the way he'd thought them up—that the ex-fantasies could turn into memories—vanishes too fast, so jinyoung is left with literally zero reason to say shinhyeo's name?

 

that's when someone else voices that thought for him instead.

 

“are you sure you want to hear the answer to that question?”

 

jinyoung and shinhyeo turn in the direction of the voice. leaning against the edge of the bookshelf, watching the other two with a textbook hugged to her chest, is a girl. she's wearing a long-sleeved lavender shirt with jeans, her stick-straight black hair falling to her elbow, doe-eyes sparkling with a challenge. jinyoung isn't sure how much she's heard, but as shinhyeo turns back to him to check for his reaction, she sends him a little reassuring wink and he relaxes slightly.

 

“excuse me?” asks shinhyeo finally.

 

“you know there's that saying,” there's a dreamy lilt to her voice, and jinyoung thinks she'd be good at telling children bedtime stories. “‘don't ask questions for which you may not like the answer’, am i right? you tell me, you're the literature students.” she smiles at their bewildered faces. “my point is that you just asked a question where it's very obvious that he's not going to choose you.”

 

shinhyeo seems to recover slightly at having this pointed out. “i don't mean to be rude, but what concern of yours is this?”

 

“look, let me put it this way,” mystery girl says. “when your friend gets into an argument, you go to support them, right? that's what i’m doing.”

 

shinhyeo snaps his eyes back to jinyoung. “she's your friend?” jinyoung silently thanks his stars that he didn't call the girl out himself. a little support seems desirable at the moment, even if he is unaware of the name of his supporter.

 

“friend would be an understatement. i've known jinyoung way longer than you think.” mystery girl walks over to them, placing a hand on jinyoung's shoulder, her touch featherlight. she's petite, the top of her head just about level with jinyoung's chin. he's getting a little freaked out now, but he’s not going to say anything yet, because he is interested to see where this is going. it's a fatal flaw of his.

 

“how come he didn't acknowledge your presence, then?” demands shinhyeo, arms crossed over his chest. “why's he acting like he doesn't know you then?”

 

the girl looks up at jinyoung, who chuckles without it quivering too much, saying, “it's not that. i was just surprised to see her here.” he turns to her, addressing her directly. “you don't come to the library very often.”

 

she laughs softly in response, turning to shinhyeo. “you know, this brat, pretends he doesn't know me half the time.” she sticks out her hand. “chae ana, fourth year, mechanical.” she introduces herself coolly, like she hasn't just barged into an argument under the pretence of helping her friend, which jinyoung is not.

 

that new piece of information causes a few things to align in jinyoung's head. chae ana, mark's date for thrill zone who never showed up that day. chae ana, the very reason shinhyeo and jinyoung were arguing in the first place.

 

shinhyeo outright refuses to shake her hand, giving her a look of plain judgement. she shrugs and retracts her hand. “if you don't mind,” shinhyeo says flatly. “we'd like to finish the conversation _ you _ interrupted.”

 

“by all means, go ahead, but i know that none of us here see the point behind it.” she looks shinhyeo dead in the eye as she's saying these words, using a sing-song tone just to be annoying, leaning back to her initial position against the bookshelf.

 

“jinyoung, tell her to leave,” requests shinhyeo, the plead in his tone forced and plastic. he has no intention of speaking nicely here, and jinyoung's done with that.

 

“no, i think i'm leaving, shinhyeo.” jinyoung feels the smallest bit of satisfaction permeating into his chest as he says those words. “i think we're square now, don't you think?”  _ receive one rejection, dole out one back. even steven. _

 

“you're going to regret that,” shrugs shinhyeo plainly, putting his hands out to emphasize how little this all means to him. “whatever, it's going to be easy getting over you.”

 

jinyoung scowls, the words simply bouncing off him. “wow. let's leave, noona.” ana nods at the words and they leave together in silence.

 

once they're outside the library, jinyoung turns to the older girl with his eyebrows raised. she shifts from foot to foot, awaiting his question. an awkwardness to her demeanor had set in as they had walked away, making it feel as though she had been wearing a mask the whole time.

 

“why?” asks jinyoung finally.

 

she waits a few seconds before she speaks, and when she does, her voice is soft and quiet, even though they’re not in the library anymore. “because you looked like you really needed someone come and fish you out of that conversation,” she responds, face deadpan.

 

jinyoung lets out a small laugh at the direct answer. “you're really not wrong, but i could've handled it myself, ana-sshi.” 

 

something resembling a smile flits across ana’s face. “no, you couldn't have.”

 

jinyoung shrugs, feeling he can leave the point there. “but why would you come and help me out? you don't know me.”

 

“i think you bringing up the fact that we don't know each other doesn't really hold here, because we kinda do. it was my fault you were in that argument in the first place.” ana begins walking down the path away from the library, and jinyoung rushes to fall in step with her. 

 

“so you heard all that?” he asks.

 

“you were speaking about it in the middle of the library. someone could've been hiding in the shelves with a recorder. you got lucky it was just me, kid,” remarks ana, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

 

jinyoung shrugs. “i guess,” he admits.

 

“to be honest, i kinda expected it,” says ana after a short silence. “you wanna go get coffee?”

 

“sure, but expected it… how?” asks the younger, eyebrows furrowing.

 

“something was off from the beginning. i knew it couldn't have gone the way wurin told everyone else. technically, no one else knew that i was supposed to have been with mark that day. and wurin was told by jackson that i had asked mark out, not that jackson set us up.” she pauses and scoffs slightly. “i suppose that makes sense. anyone could've figured out that jackson couldn't have set mark up if mark had been in a relationship. he's his best friend.”

 

jinyoung nods slowly as they leave the college gates, heading for the nearest café. “thanks for helping me out, either way.”

 

“you seem like a nice kid,” shrugs ana, before laughing a bit. “and also, i don't regret having to step out of the lab for once, so it's whatever. that feeling of missing one crucial piece of information, it was really killing me. i hate the feeling that i don't know something, you know?” jinyoung nods in agreement. he’s been called  _ too curious for his own good  _ all the while that he was growing up, and even after becoming an adult, he hasn’t lost the trait.

 

they enter the café, slipping into a silence. jinyoung feels like he has to say something, and his awkwardness is turning up by the second.

 

_ can you say something? _

_ i don’t know, what can i say? _

_ say something! _

_ but i don’t know what to say! _

_ you really suck at conversation. _

_ no kidding. _

 

ana shakes her head at him as they stand in line. “you know, you don't have to say anything.”

 

“i'm not too good at starting conversations,” admits jinyoung sheepishly. he hates admitting it, but it's true, and he's accepted it. too many times to be all that affected by that statement anymore. it’s come to be a part of him. “or continuing them.”

 

“don't worry about it, i'm the exact same,” the girl shrugs, her eyes scanning the menu.

 

“yeah?” smiles jinyoung, pleased to have company.

 

“i am one of the most awkward people ever. my hands were shaking the whole time i hijacked your conversation. i thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. i like keeping human contact to a minimum,” says ana, fingers fiddling with a strand of deep-black hair absentmindedly. “i save my words for people who i'm friends with.” she pauses and shoots him a small smile. “i guess that's what we kinda are now? so i guess you can call me noona.”

 

“alright,” agrees jinyoung, his smile widening slightly. “do you have a habit of scripting your conversations in your head too?”

 

“all the time,” declares the girl emphatically, in tones colored with equal parts of exasperation and embarrassment. jinyoung feels a strong sense of relation. “every time i have to talk to a stranger. you know, i was so sure that you were going to call me out for not knowing you and i was going to regret performing a good deed.”

 

“i was pretty close to,” admits jinyoung, nodding. he spared her a round of embarrassment, and she’d returned the favor. “luckily i didn't. you were a freaking lifesaver, noona.” they order their coffees—jinyoung's treat, no surprise—and get a table and wait.

 

“definitely not any of my business, but that other kid you were talking to”—jinyoung finds it a little hilarious that ana refers to them as kids despite only being a year older and several inches shorter—“was your ex, or what? i heard the words amusement park, and i realized you, mark's supposed boyfriend, were talking, and my curiosity was piqued, excuse me for that.”

 

“really no point apologizing now, but sure,” chuckles jinyoung. “no, i used to like him, and he rejected me, and today he actually admitted he liked me. complicated shit.” complicated shit that he really doesn't want to think about, now and for the rest of his lifetime.

 

“ah, that explains it.” ana has a look on her face that shows that she really doesn't think it's all that complicated, but it's okay because jinyoung is still small and doesn't yet know all that much about life. it doesn't feel all that condescending, more like subtle teasing. jinyoung's tempted to slap her on the arm and tell her to shut up. “so you're over him now?” she asks.

 

that's when jinyoung realizes. 

 

_ i’m completely, undoubtedly, absolutely, one-hundred percent clear of feelings for shinhyeo. _

 

so yes, he's over shinhyeo.

 

and it feels like the best feeling ever.

 

==

 

**_—18 MARCH_ **

**_2:48_ **

  
  


mark cannot go on.

 

the words on the page in front of him are obscured and blurred as his vision goes out of focus, and his eyes burn. he wishes the library wasn't open twenty-four-seven, because at least if it had a closing time and he had been kicked out, he probably wouldn't be studying now.

 

he's been putting in too many extra hours, sacrificing his sleep hour by hour, day by day, just to cover a few more chapters. his learning speed has deteriorated rapidly, his concentration span at its lowest with his perennial headache.

 

but right now, he knows he just can't go on. he picks up his books, exiting the library, that somehow seems all the more eerily silent in the small hours of the morning. mark's pretty sure he's been the only one in the building for the last few hours.

 

as soon as he steps outside the library, he can feel a raindrop hit his forehead. he looks up morosely. the sky is black as it can be, overstuffed with clouds. a few more raindrops find their home on mark's face, but he can't bring himself to care. he thinks it's a reflection of his overall mood.

 

isn't rain the most apt form of expressing what he's going through right now? he feels like a failure who ruined his future, someone who can't do anything right. he feels empty, numb.

 

he begins his trudge back to his dorm. the raindrops pick up their pace, stinging mark's skin with a frigid absence of mercy. by the time he lets himself into his suite-slash-apartment-slash-exclusive-markson-area, he's soaked to the skin, his hair plastered to his face. he’s not even shivering.

 

jackson's sleeping, probably like all other normal people, so mark changes into a dry pair of clothes, thinking he's really going to regret not drying his hair in the morning as he pulls his duvet over his head.

 

when morning comes, he finds out he's not wrong. his throat hurts like a bunch of bees have built their hive there. he puts a hand to his forehead, and yup, he's running a temperature, what did he even expect?

 

he peeks out from under the duvet, and jackson's running around getting ready.

 

“jacks?” calls out mark weakly. jackson doesn't hear him at first, so he says his name again, a little louder, trying to keep the sickness out of his voice.

 

“yeah?” asks jackson, stuffing books into his bookbag.

 

“i'm not feeling too good, so i'm taking a day in, alright?” 

 

“markiepooh, are you not okay?” asks the other immediately, head whipping around so fast mark’s surprised that he doesn’t reel in pain immediately. 

 

“it's just a headache, i'm fine,” reassures mark, burrowing into the duvet. “for real, i just feel like taking a day for myself, i've been studying so much lately.” he's lying blatantly about how sick he really is, but the truth is that jackson gets really paranoid about sickness and mark doesn't want to get him freaked out. he'll be fine, and he doesn't want to cause jackson to worry.

 

“are you sure?”

 

“positive, jacks. just go ahead, i'll be fine by the time you're back.” mark sticks out a thumbs-up from under the duvet. he can almost see the other rolling his eyes.

 

“okay, well, you know where the medicines are, and call me if you need anything, okay? my phone's always on. one word, and i'll be over, okay?” he's already freaking out slightly, so mark just keeps his thumb pointed upwards and tells jackson not to worry.

 

his eyes are ablaze with a pain that takes too long to subside even after he’s closed his eyes, and his muscles scream in protest every time he attempts to move, and it's with an effort that mark falls back into an uneasy slumber.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hands !! up !! if you !! thought !! ana !! was !! going !! to be !! this !! toxic !! bitch !!  
> honestly in so many fics i've read the female ocs are either wayyy too idealized or are specifically constructed so that they are nothing more than this airhead bitch who serves no more purpose than to be all over one of the protagonists and try to ruin the main relationship  
> personally speaking, i think female ocs deserve way better. females are human too, and i love my kind with all i have. so if you thought that ana was here to ruin markjin, i'm sorry.  
> also here's your announcement that i have completed writing this fic in my drafts ! i worked like a maniac the last few days and the entire thing is 21 chapters + an epilogue :) depending on the comments on this chapter, i'll reduce the time period between chapters to somewhere between 3 and 6 days, so make sure you tell me what you're good with :-)  
> (i want to leave at least a couple days between updates) (they're long chapters and shit needs to sink in) (also i am an absolute hoe for comments and not ashamed to admit that haha)  
> anyway, that was a longer a/n than usual. thank you for making it through this! i hope you have a great day!
> 
> Question of the Chapter: taking shinhyeo's feelings into consideration, what did you think of all he said? and now that jinyoung is clear of feelings for shinhyeo and happy, how do you think shinhyeo must be feeling?


	14. Chapter 14

**_—18 MARCH_ **

**_6:31_ **

  
  


jinyoung wakes up to his phone angrily buzzing under his pillow. he doesn’t have an alarm. it’s one of his rare calendar notifications. he doesn’t even need to check it to know exactly which one it is.

 

it’s  _ her  _ birthday.

 

jinyoung feels like a rock has dropped into his stomach. he should’ve deleted that notification years ago. two years and seven months ago, to be exact. but he couldn’t. he still can’t.

 

he pulls out his phone and shuts off the notification. her name is flashing on his screen in bold letters, causing a twinge in his heart. he misses her so much.

 

if it had been a situation where she had  _ had  _ to leave, regardless of what she wanted, jinyoung probably would’ve let her go in peace. he would’ve learned to live without her.  _ properly  _ live, without feeling like his chest is being cut open and his heart is bleeding every time the thought of her popped into his mind. the ache is healing now, she doesn’t haunt his thoughts like she used to. but it still hurts.

 

because she  _ chose  _ to leave. she chose to leave him alone. she’d walked in, made herself the centre of jinyoung’s world,

 

and then she’d left. just like that.

 

and yet, jinyoung can’t bring himself to hate her. nowhere in the depths of his heart does he feel the slightest bit of animosity towards her. that is because of all she did to make herself the centre of jinyoung’s world in the first place. she’d given him a hand to hold when no one else would reach out. she’d done all she could for him even if that meant having to face her own demons, her own fears while doing so. she’d ask him all the time if he was okay without it getting annoying, because he knew she cared.

 

and he’d always known that he could never match up to the level she cared. but he’d still tried. he tried to always be there when she needed someone to listen. he’d tried to make sure his voice of encouragement was heard when all she was hearing was voices filled with spite. he’d tried to always express how much she meant to him.

 

he’d tried, but it evidently hadn’t been enough to stop her from leaving.

 

there are some people you just can’t let go of. she is one such person to him. he feels like deleting her birthday notification off his calendar will eventually lead to him forgetting her, like erasing the remnants of her from his life will mean drawing a screen over the times he spent with her. he doesn’t want to forget her. even after all this time, even after acknowledging the blatant clarity of the fact that she’s never coming back, he can’t let her go. 

 

today, he’s bitter. he’s bitter because he can’t be there to wish her in person, or even in some form of social media, because when she left, she made sure to leave no trace behind but the memories she’d made with him. he’s bitter because she definitely isn’t missing him at all right now, sitting on the other edge of the world with her handsome, amazing boyfriend and people who give her the appreciation that she always deserved but never got. he’s bitter because she isn’t thinking of him now, the way he’s thinking of her, wishing he could get hyped over seeing her open his present to her, wishing he could make her smile today, and not just today.

 

he turns over and buries his head in his pillow, and he decides that it’s time to get up. the upper bunk is empty, meaning jaebum’s already up. a crease appears between jinyoung’s eyebrows. he wonders if jaebum remembers what day it is.

 

unlike jinyoung, jaebum moved on. it wasn’t easy for him, but he did. jinyoung wishes he could be like jaebum, denying the fact that he ever knew her and actually believing himself when he said that. jaebum shuts down any attempts of bringing her up in conversation, and if her name happens to pop up, as rarely as it does, he changes the subject so fast, he gives light waves a run for their money.

 

jinyoung isn’t like that. he sometimes thinks that he’d be healing a little quicker if he had someone to talk to about her, to tell him that it’s okay to still be attached, to reminisce with him over memories that are just memories now. jinyoung is someone who feels better talking things out, whereas jaebum is one who gets over his problems by not talking about them. they are the ones that her departure made a huge impact on, and jinyoung can’t even talk to him about it.

 

memories swirl in jinyoung’s mind, one after another, progressing so fast and intensifying the pain in his chest second by second.  _ it’s not fair _ , he wants to yell. but when is life ever fair? some people aren’t meant to be in our lives, but it hurts even more when you convince yourself that they were supposed to be there.  _ but she was supposed to be here.  _ jinyoung looks at himself in the mirror while drying his hair, noticing that he’s let a tear slip out from between his eyelids. he wipes it away angrily. he’s cried over her enough. 

 

memory is a bitch. he wishes he could delete what he wants and keep what he wants. he wishes a lot of things, just like the rest of us, but all of us got more than we bargained for with this human existence. you take the good, you take the bad, and then you spend so much time focussing on the bad that you forget about the good.

 

jinyoung heads to the kitchen to get coffee, and he sees that jaebum’s already made a cup for him, and it’s sitting on the counter innocently. jaebum never makes jinyoung coffee. he must know exactly what day it is, and exactly how jinyoung’s going to react. jaebum’s more of the type to be silently caring, and he hates it when he’s acknowledged, so it’s with no words that jinyoung sits next to jaebum on the couch, watching him read something on his phone.

 

jaebum finally registers jinyoung’s presence as jinyoung sips his lukewarm coffee that tastes painfully bitter on his tongue, because  _ goddamn, jaebum, are you even human if you drink this without sugar?  _ the moment their gazes lock, jinyoung realizes that he’s reminiscing too, because he can see thoughts of her reflected in jaebum’s eyes too. his eyes cast back the same hurt that jinyoung knows is filling his eyes now, only the emotion in jaebum’s eyes is a lot dimmer, a lot more detached.

 

jaebum smiles, a little melancholic, and pats jinyoung’s shoulder, conveying consolation without using any of his verbal skills. it means more than it looks like, jinyoung knows, so he just smiles back, scooching a little closer to jaebum.

 

jaebum throws an arm over jinyoung’s shoulder, nearly spilling jinyoung’s coffee. jinyoung hisses, but jaebum just laughs, making a comment on how clumsy jinyoung is. jinyoung, not being one to even handle teasingly false accusations, immediately throws the blame back on jaebum, resulting in a back-and-forth that gets nobody anywhere, but it does divert jinyoung’s thoughts a bit, because at the end of it he’s laughing at how awfully they’re insulting each other, and at how they went from being clumsy to making comments on whose junk occupies lesser volume.

 

jinyoung gets through morning classes like a sleepwalker, not registering half the things that his professors talk about during the lectures. his kinematics professor surprisingly enough, lets them off on time, and jinyoung begins his walk to the oak tree with the feeling of unexpected satisfaction bubbling in him, the thought of the fact that the cafeteria is serving fried chicken today making his stomach rumble in anticipation. he barely had any breakfast, and he plans to order four servings just to satisfy his appetite.

 

lost in his thoughts of palatable food, he doesn’t notice before a hurricane by the name of jackson barrells right into him. he’s nearly knocked off balance, but luckily, he places his hands on jackson’s shoulders to steady them both before they can fall.

 

“whoa, jackson,” says jinyoung as he recovers from the shock. “you alright, man?”

 

jackson takes a minute to catch his breath, finally wheezing out, “jinyoung! thank god i found you.” he takes a deep breath and his face assumes an expression of normalcy, only slightly undercut by the smile that is very obviously forced onto his face. “i need a favor.”

 

“what kind of favor?” asks jinyoung suspiciously. four servings of fried chicken area waiting for him. he doesn’t want to keep them waiting.

 

jackson’s smile turns slightly nervous, but turns a little more genuine. “mark’s sick as fuck. he won’t say it out loud, but he is. if i fuss over him, he’ll kill me, but i bought him soup anyway.” he pulls a thermos out of his bag. “in fact, i kinda bunked my thermodynamics lecture to go get it for him. now my professor, the dragon-lady, found out that i had someone else sign for me, and she’s called me, so i’m screwed, but i need to get this to mark. could you be amazing and go drop it off for me?” 

 

“mark’s sick?” asks jinyoung concernedly, taking the thermos from jackson. he’s barely seen mark during the last two weeks, since mark is always studying. other than quick text conversations and occasionally running into each other on campus, they haven’t hung out at all. it gets to jinyoung. a day without seeing mark feels simply doesn’t feel right anymore, despite the fact that jinyoung did survive twenty-one years of his life without knowing the older. the last time jinyoung saw mark, the tell-tale signs of exhaustion were beginning to show on mark’s face, and when he had pointed that out, mark had waved it off with a weak laugh.

 

“yes, and he’s going to forget to eat unless you get that to him, because that’s the kind of dumb fuck that boy is. well, he’s a dumb fuck, but i don’t want him to die, because he’s very precious to me, okay?” jackson waits for jinyoung to nod to emphasize his point, then digs inside his pocket to produce a set of keys with a squirtle keychain. “the small silver one is the dorm key. i figure i’m okay loaning this to you because you’re there so often anyway.” even then, jackson can’t resist flashing jinyoung a teasing grin. jinyoung rolls his eyes. “see you, jinyoung. pray that i come back alive.”

 

“fighting!” yells jinyoung as jackson runs away. he stows the thermos in his bookbag, silently being thankful that he didn’t bring his satchel today since its strap was broken. he taps out a quick text to jaebum and youngjae, who respond with winky faces, to which he once again expresses his wish to drop-kick them out a window, and tells them not to make too many babies while he’s gone.

 

jinyoung sets off in the direction of the boys’ dorm, figuring it’ll take him around ten to fifteen minutes to walk there. he lets his thoughts wander as he walks down the stone path, picking up his pace slightly when he’s reminded that mark is sick. 

 

_ that numbskull. _

_ how’d he even get sick? _

_ probably overworked. _

_ what a moron. _

_ i hope he’s not too sick, though. _

_ i hope he’s doing okay enough. _

_ he better be okay. _

_ he better. _

 

jinyoung regrets picking up speed as soon as his shin comes in contact with another person’s foot, and the ground comes up to welcome him like an old friend. he hits the stones with a sickening  _ thud _ , the world spinning before his eyes. aching and disoriented, jinyoung pushes himself up to his knees, trying to recover his breath and his normal vision. he can taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and touches his bottom lip softly, only for his fingers to come away stained red.

 

the owner of the shoe that intruded with his gait hisses something at him, a word that jinyoung thinks he’s heard way too many times for one lifetime, and bile is drawn to the back of his throat, anger flooding his veins.

 

_ what the fuck did that asshole just call you? _

_ calm down, calm down. you’re an adult. _

_ an adult who’s going to fucking rearrange that dickwad’s face. _

_ if you’re going to fight, it’s obvious to see that you would be beaten. _

_ you take your chances. every single one. _

_ you’re probably going to be annihilated. _

_ you will not back down, how dare he. _

_ okay, kinda backing down now. _

_ point taken, abort mission. abort! _

_ walk away, walk away, walk away. _

 

because jinyoung knows, it’s punishment for being different, it’s a branding you receive for something you can’t help. he knows that he was tripped, that this was no accident. he knows that the best way to save himself in this situation is to simply get up and walk away, abstaining from reacting.

 

_ respond, don’t react.  _ jinyoung silently chants the words in his head as he increases the distance between him and the other male with every step he takes. there’s a rip in his jeans near his knees, which are thankfully not scraped, and his full-sleeved shirt saved his arms. the blood on his lips is drying, and jinyoung runs a hand through his disheveled hair, stuffing down his anger, telling himself that this isn’t worth it.

 

the whole incident gets him thinking again, remembering things he doesn’t want to go back to, when predictably, his mind goes back to her.  _ this wouldn’t have happened if she’d been here. _ he wants to yell and swear at the sky, but he can’t, so he settles for murmuring the worst curses he can think of under his breath.

 

mark’s and jackson’s dorm is eerily silent when jinyoung lets himself in, placing the thermos of soup on the small makeshift coffee table in the living room. the silence unnerves jinyoung, who feels like this is the noiselessness that you have to face when you’re scared to open a door because you won’t know what you’ll find inside. a shiver runs up his spine involuntarily, and suddenly, flashbacks of horror movies watched between trembling fingers come back to his mind. that’s stupid, he knows, so he tells himself to grow up.

 

he decides to check on mark, to just make sure that mark is doing somewhat okay. there’s a miniscule bud of fear blooming in his chest, and he needs to assure himself that mark is fine. the bedroom door is wide open, a human-shaped lump of a duvet on mark’s mattress on the floor. all of jaebum’s warnings about the dangers of sleeping with your face covered spring to jinyoung’s mind immediately, and without a second thought, he goes to pull the duvet away from mark’s face so the brunet can breathe easier.

 

_ sick as fuck  _ just about describes mark’s condition. his skin is flushed red with fever, his breathing far too slow, his cheeks hollower than jinyoung remembers them. deep circles are etched under his eyes, drops of sweat on his forehead, and his mouth is slightly open. even though jinyoung’s not all that close, he can still feel the heat radiating off the older. his wet caramel brown hair is sticking to his forehead, and the younger feels the need to yell at him for that. 

 

_ what was he thinking?! _

_ is he an idiot?! _

_ calm yourself, he’s not dead. _

_ he looks pretty near dead! _

_ breathe. breathe. he’s breathing. _

_ oh my god. _

_ don’t freak out, don’t freak out. _

_ i’m freaking out, i’m freaking out, fuck! _

 

panic wells in jinyoung’s throat because mark just looks  _ way _ too sick, so he shakes mark once, and when he doesn’t respond, instead of taking the logical route of maybe shaking mark a little harder, jinyoung outright slaps him across the face.

 

==

 

**_—18 MARCH_ **

**_12:31_ **

 

mark sees stars.

 

blinding spots of light dance in his field of vision, his ears ringing and world tilting with the shock of suddenly being woken up. he’s too dazed to even register who even woke him up, because he’s trying to stop feeling like the ground is falling under him.

 

as the ringing in his ears clears, jinyoung’s voice is clearly heard. mark’s first thought is about how jinyoung is there when he has classes. his second thought is about what the absolute  _ fuck _ possessed that boy to slap him. understandably. he touches his cheek gingerly, checking to see if there’s any feeling left in it. he pushes his elbows against the mattress so he can sit up.

 

“...so what do you have to say for yourself?”

 

mark doesn’t even have the energy to retrieve his glasses from under his pillow, instead squinting at the image on his retinas that’s blurred at the edges, but definitely jinyoung. he literally hasn’t heard a single thing that jinyoung’s said. all he could make out was that jinyoung was very clearly not happy with him, but mark couldn’t see how it was his problem in the first place. he trains his burning eyes on jinyoung, who’s kneeling near the mattress, arms crossed and glowering at him.

 

“what i have to say for what?” asks mark, eyebrows raised. “what do  _ you  _ have to say about slapping  _ me _ ?” his voice unintentionally cracks when he tries to put emphasis on the last word, sending a volley of coughs spilling out of his mouth, rough and loud and making his throat feel like it’s been rubbed raw.

 

jinyoung puts a hand out to pat mark on the back, but he retracts it when mark stares daggers at him. “i freaked out, okay?” jinyoung says defensively, the anger in his expression refusing to recede. “you looked so scarily sick, i didn’t even have all that much confidence in the odds that you would wake up!”

 

“you didn’t have to  _ slap  _ me, for fuck’s sake, jinyoung!” raising his voice is causing mark’s head to spin, so he rests his head on his knees and screws his eyes shut. more coughs force their way out of his throat, and he muffles them in his duvet. his chest feels like it’s on fire. “what kind of logic is that, anyway?”

 

“what kind of logic is sleeping with wet hair, hyung?” retaliates jinyoung, the volume of his voice climbing a notch. “are you fucking crazy? you got yourself this sick!”

 

mark is not even looking at jinyoung, because the younger's glare is just too intense. “i was just too tired, oka—”

 

“exactly! you were too tired to do the bare minimum to make sure you wouldn’t fall sick. now how exhausted did you make yourself if you reached that state?” there’s a painful silence as jinyoung waits for mark to answer.

 

mark glares at nothing, his vision blurring for a second as his eyes quickly move around the room, looking anywhere but jinyoung's face. “well, at least i had a reason…”

 

jinyoung cocks his head to the side, voice scarily calm as he asks, “oh, yeah? care to tell me exactly what you're implying by that statement?”

 

mark has no intention of backing down now. “i mean,” he says in exaggeratedly slow tones, as though explaining to a two-year-old, “that at least i got exhausted over studying, and not over a boy.” he doesn’t even bother to mince words, because the fact remains that he’s never reacted to anything all that pleasantly when he’s been woken up. 

 

jinyoung’s mouth drops open, and he splutters out, “that—that was differ—”

 

“don’t you even dare tell me that was different,” spits out mark acidly. he doesn't even know where the anger is coming from, and it's making his head hurt and spots appear in the periphery of his vision. “i’ll tell you how it was exactly the same. we both consciously knew we were exhausting ourselves, and yet did it anyway. overthinking is not an excuse to stay awake, you were just refusing to move on, and you know how mad you’re getting over me being sick?” mark pokes jinyoung harshly in the chest, causing the other to recoil away from him. “that’s exactly how you were making the rest of us feel when you’re acting all mopey and sad, okay?”

 

and yes, being slapped across the face did trigger this. the worst part is that  _ now  _ is when he’s being truthful. yes, mark has patiently waited for jinyoung to get over shinhyeo, and kept these thoughts hidden for all that time, trying to be supportive. trying to bide his time and just be a good friend. and now, he’s not thinking all that clearly, so his mental pandora's box has opened. exploded would be a better word, actually.

 

“why are you acting like this? when did you turn into such a dickbag?” questions jinyoung, a hurt look passing over his face for a split second before it disappears, the scowl retaking its place.

 

mark pauses for a second. his temper is known to make its appearance now and again, when he has too many suppressed emotions, or when he isn't functioning properly. right now, both situations have overlapped, making him highly irritable and prone to saying shit without thinking. he needs time to calm himself.

 

jinyoung doesn't let him answer the question though, eyes burning into mark's face with all the offence in the world taken. “okay, admitted, i was wrong for slapping you, but this verbal attack is completely unwarranted.” his tone changes, turning icy and monotonic, the kind that unnerves mark. “i don't get why you're mad, but i'm going to leave you alone. come talk to me when you've cooled down.” he gets up and walks to the door. “honestly, considering the fact that i came to make sure you were alright, i really don't think i deserved that.”

 

“you didn't have to come check on me, you know,” says mark, by way of casual reminder. “i'm an adult, i can take care of myself. you can leave.”

 

jinyoung spares him one more withering glance before he walks out of the room, slamming the door too loud. the noise echoes through mark's being, and he flops back onto his bed, assuming a starfish position. his thoughts fly around his head, and he sighs, feeling the blood pumping past his temples. he closes his eyes, sure of one thing.

 

he fucked up. big time.

 

==

  
  


**_—18 MARCH_ **

**_12:46_ **

 

jinyoung counts. it takes mark all of nine minutes to drag himself out of the bedroom to check if jinyoung is still there.

 

mark looks a bit like a lost puppy, unsure of what to say as he takes in jinyoung's presence. the younger is sitting on the couch, eyebrows raised at mark's appearance, waiting for an explanation.

 

jinyoung hasn't forgiven mark. he has forgiven mark for throwing words at him, because mark is sick and jinyoung is way too forgiving for his own good. however, he still hasn't forgiven him for getting himself sick in the first place.

 

finally, mark speaks, voice small and eyes trained on the floor, “i thought you'd left.”

 

“it's going to take more than you telling me to leave to get me to leave,” informs jinyoung, seriousness permeating into his words. it takes too much for him to leave. it takes so much more to push him to breaking point than mark can even begin to comprehend. that’s not necessarily a good thing, he knows.

 

“ah.” there's a silence as jinyoung waits for the words he knows are coming. “i didn’t mean to say any of that.”  _ and there they are _ . “blueberries.”

 

a corner of jinyoung's mouth quirks up at the word. he lets his guard down so often and uses the word ‘sorry’ so often, and yet mark always seems to remember. something in him softens at that very word, and he picks himself up off the couch, walking over to mark, stopping a foot in front of him.

 

“you might not have meant to  _ say  _ any of that, but is that what you think?” it’s hard for jinyoung to ask this question, because he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer. he doesn’t want hear confirmation of his fears, that he’s tiresome to have around, that basically everyone would rather be doing something else than being around him. he can’t even prevent his worry from bleeding into his words, his eyes fixed behind mark as he asks.

 

mark exhales heavily, and a heaviness sets into jinyoung’s chest. “not that way exactly. i was too mean about it.” mark finally picks up the courage to look at jinyoung’s face, as jinyoung can pick up without directly looking at mark himself. “i meant that it was a little upsetting to see you all hung up over someone who very clearly didn’t deserve you, and— _ what  _ the fuck happened to you?”

 

jinyoung does a double take at the sudden tone change, then remembers the cut on his lip. “that? someone tripped me.” he frowns. “you honestly didn’t notice? i thought you did and just didn’t care.”

 

“what the hell do you honestly take me for—” mark starts coughing violently, doubling over with his hand over his mouth. jinyoung reaches out to pat him on the back, and this time mark doesn’t glare, instead hacking out the words “i’m not that heartless,” between shallow breaths.

 

“i know, i know,” says jinyoung softly, rubbing comforting circles on mark’s back as he struggles to revert back to his original breathing pattern. mark sways slightly, like he’s about to fall over, so jinyoung puts a supportive arm around him, letting mark lean against him.

 

mark looks up at jinyoung, frowning. “you said that  _ someone _ tripped you? not that  _ you _ tripped? it was intentional?”

 

“seemed to be,” shrugs jinyoung nonchalantly. he lets out a small humorless laugh. “felt like i was back in high school all over again.”

 

“ouch,” flinches mark, putting his hand on jinyoung’s shoulder and giving it a small squeeze.

 

“but it doesn’t matter,” declares jinyoung, the slight raise in tone putting it forward very clearly that he wants to change the subject. he knows where the mention of high school will take him back to, a place he doesn’t want to go to. “you need medicine, that’s the first thing. and you can’t take medicine unless you eat. jackson bunked thermodynamics to buy soup for you.” he walks over to the makeshift coffee table, mark tucked under his arm until he takes a seat on the couch.

 

“he has barely just enough attendance, is he stupid?” wonders mark out loud, resting his head on the arm of the couch as jinyoung takes a seat next to him, the thermos in his hands.

 

jinyoung twists open the cap, then walks over to the kitchen to find a bowl to put the soup in. “he got someone to sign for him, and his professor found out. so he’s in a soup of his own now.” he cringes internally, because he can’t believe he said that, and mark senses that, so he makes sure to laugh, only to start coughing again.  _ hah. karma, bitch. _

 

“so basically he is stupid,” says mark as his coughing ceases, jinyoung handing the bowl of soup to him. mark takes a tentative sip, then puts a hand to his heart. “well, he may be stupid, but he’s a stupid angel, because the soup is  _ so  _ good, goddammit.” jinyoung laughs as mark slurps down more of the soup with renewed vigor, remarking in the middle, “thank god i miraculously didn’t lose my sense of taste.” he pauses. “did you have lunch?”

 

“no, jackson said the words ‘mark’s sick as fuck’, and i dropped everything and rushed here.” there’s a smirk resting on jinyoung’s lips. he has the opportunity to lay on the guilt, and he’s taking it and running with it.

 

mark’s cheeks flush red. “i apologized, and i’m pretty sure that’s not what happened.”

 

“oh, no,” insists jinyoung, eyes wide and teasing. “somewhere outside the mech building, there lies a bunch of kinematics notes, scattered over the concrete pavement, lost and lonely because they were abandoned by a man who needed to take care of his fake boyfriend.”

 

mark hits jinyoung’s chest with a pout. “stop trying to make me feel guilty.”

 

jinyoung finds mark ridiculously adorable. “i don’t think so,” he smiles.

 

mark narrows his eyes. “for real, did you have lunch or not?”

 

“i didn’t, but i texted jaebum while you were still recovering from your tantrum”—he pauses just to shoot mark a sadistic smile—“and he said he could do me the kind favor of dropping something off to satisfy my ravenous appetite, albeit saying the last couple words with enough exasperation to express a year’s worth of anger towards huge bills every time i make him pay.” there’s a knock on the door, and jinyoung jumps. “speak of the devil, that must be him.”

 

and jaebum it is, standing at the door with youngjae by his side, a plastic bag in his hands. “food delivery for park jinyoung,” jokes jaebum, handing the heavy bag over to jinyoung. “three orders of chicken wings, just like you asked. the woman at the counter thought i was crazy.”

 

jinyoung laughs. “where’s the lie?”

 

jaebum’s face collapses into an expression of disappointment at the fact that jinyoung said exactly what he expected him to say. “by the way, how’s your boyfriend doing?”

 

“fake boyfriend!” yells mark from inside, before collapsing into another fit of coughs. 

 

jinyoung spares an eye-roll. “he’s sick, in case you can’t tell.”

 

“get well soon, mark hyung!” calls youngjae loudly, to which mark yells back a thank you through his coughs. youngjae frowns at jinyoung. “what happened to your lip?”

 

“yeah, i was about to ask,” seconds jaebum.

 

“tripped and fell, but i’m good, so chill.” jinyoung holds up a dismissive thumbs-up, but jaebum has that look on his face when he knows jinyoung isn’t being completely truthful and needs to call him out for it, so jinyoung hurriedly goes on to say, “anyway, i gotta eat, thank a mil, okay, bye!” and he shuts the door before jaebum has the chance to respond.

 

he cradles the bag of food in his arms, taking a second to inhale the aroma and let out a contented sigh. mark chuckles at the sight, commenting, “you’re such a dork.” he's has finished all his soup in this short time, the speed at which he eats startling jinyoung for the nth time.

 

jinyoung shrugs vaguely at the statement, not knowing how exactly to counter-argue. he puts the bag down, pausing by the sofa to ruffle mark’s hair, then drawing his hand back when he realizes that mark’s hair is still damp. “hyung, your hair’s still wet.”

 

“yeah, i know,” says mark noncommittally, leaning against the couch cushions. “jackson’s got a hair dryer, but i’m too lazy to use it.”

 

“alright, get up,” prompts jinyoung immediately, poking mark’s head repeatedly. mark whines, burying his face in a cushion before jinyoung threatens to physically carry him, after which he gets to his feet, making a huge show by making exaggerated groans with every muscle he has to move.

 

“you’re really nettlesome, you know that?” jinyoung observes as he lets mark walk in front of him and retrieve the hair dryer from the cabinet under the bathroom sink. mark then sits down near the sink while jinyoung connects the hair dryer to the plug.

“yah, wash your lip off first,” reminds mark, so jinyoung does, turning the hot faucet on and swiping the dried blood off his lip, leaving only a bright red slash across his bottom lip.

 

jinyoung picks up the hair dryer and stands in front of mark, whose tired eyes are nearly closed, his figure slumped. jinyoung rests his hand at the nape of mark’s neck as he dries the older’s hazel locks, shifting the direction of the hot air to mark’s face every time he seems to be dropping off, finding some vindictive pleasure in the way mark jumps and glares every time he does that.

 

“what time did you get back last night?” asks jinyoung, his voice raised slightly so the hair-dryer noise doesn’t drown him out. 

 

“three o’clock, i think?” answers mark. “i got caught in the rain.”

 

“and you were sleeping with wet hair until i came and woke you up?” jinyoung marvels, in the most incredulous way, because he can’t believe someone is that thickheaded. “you’re unbelieveable.”

 

“i woke up like half an hour before you came, to brush my teeth, because my mouth felt awful, like it had gasoline in it or something.” jinyoung makes a face and mark goes on. “but my hair kinda dried then? either way, no point going back there now.”

 

“you’re unbelievable,” repeats jinyoung, switching off the hair dryer. mark’s hair is now a fluffy mess, resting on his head like a pillow. jinyoung moves his hand to mark's cheek, the older looking up at him all adorable and sullen. jinyoung steps a little closer so he’s standing between mark’s legs, then he leans in and presses his lips to mark's burning forehead, letting them linger a little longer than usual. it's an apology, it's reassurance.

 

mark doesn’t protest at all, only saying once jinyoung’s pulled away, “watch the proximity. i have germs.”

 

“weird fact, but i’m not all that capable of catching what other people have,” informs jinyoung, his thumb brushing over mark’s cheekbone. “i get sick at all kinds of unexpected times, but i haven’t, in the twenty-one years of my life, ever caught an affliction from anyone else, and believe me when i say i’ve taken my chances.” he throws in an emphatic yet enigmatic nod at the end of that sentence, thinking he could talk days about the times he’s taken care of youngjae.

 

“if you say so,” allows mark, wrapping his arms around jinyoung’s waist and resting his head against jinyoung's chest, jaded from his indisposition. his excessive warmth seeps in through jinyoung’s pin-striped button-down, and he pats mark’s head with a small chuckle, saying, “you know, i’m still mad at you. you’re stupid and i care, unfortunately. you’re an unbelievably unintelligent, moronic, idiotic human being.”

 

“i’m still mad at you too,” replies mark, squeezing jinyoung playfully. “you’re stupid and unintelligent and all that too, but i care too,  _ unfortunately _ .” he says the last word in mockery of the way jinyoung said it, dragging the syllables out.

 

jinyoung laughs. “i guess two angry people who care form a pretty good fake boyfriendship.” he pauses to frown at the jocularity of his words. “that is a sentence i never thought i’d say in my life.” mark laughs at that, a little restrained. it’s not like his usual high-pitched peals of mirth, the ones that make jinyoung laugh even harder. it’s really not the same.

 

mark cups jinyoung’s face in his hands, his thumb brushing over jinyoung’s bottom lip, which is still tender and hurts when it’s touched. jinyoung hisses, and mark apologizes quickly, following it up with a teasing, “you want me to kiss it to make it feel better?”

 

“crazy bastard,” mumbles jinyoung, pushing mark’s hands away with an amused and slightly exasperated smile, his face feeling a couple degrees warmer, though he knows he isn’t catching mark’s fever.

 

mark simply laughs again, pulling jinyoung close again and resting himself against him. jinyoung laughs at how clingy he’s being. “come on, i think sitting on the couch will be at least marginally more comfortable than being stuck in this bathroom.” mark mumbles something indistinguishable into jinyoung’s chest in response.

 

“what?”

 

“i don’t wanna get up,” clarifies mark, instigating jinyoung to wrap his arms around him, pick him up and carry out his threat by physically carrying him back to the sofa. mark at first makes a few weak attempts at a remonstration, before laying his head on jinyoung's shoulder and shutting up. jinyoung fetches a dry pillow and duvet from the bedroom, as well as a paracetamol and a glass of water, finally taking a seat on one end of the couch and letting mark occupy the rest.

 

jinyoung pulls out his modern poetry notes and textbook from his backpack, figuring that he should at least get a bit of studying done if he was going to miss the lecture anyway. he flips to a random page in the book, opening it to the translation of an english poem,  _ one art _ , by elizabeth bishop. he reads through it quickly, unthinkingly.

 

one art. the art of losing.

 

_ for real? _

 

it’s like the universe is striving to remind him what day it is. remind him of what he has lost. it’s ridiculous. this entire day has not gone his way. the feeling that his stomach is dropping at a million miles an hour, much like how he was feeling when mark was acting all snippy and contemptible, is back. it’s not even like an occasional thought can hurt him, but somehow, today, the thoughts have piled up, accumulated, and she’s plaguing his thoughts again.

 

his eyes glass over, and he stares blankly at the page, before shutting the book harshly, causing mark to jump. jinyoung presses his fingers to his temples.  _ overthinking is not an excuse.  _ he probably should’ve let those words go as well. he should’ve let a lot of things go.  _ why am i living like this? _

 

mark places his hand on jinyoung's shoulder. “jinyoungie?” his tone is so tentative, so gentle, so caring, that jinyoung can’t help saying offhandedly, after a small silence, “to think, i was actually regretting picking you for a moment then.”

 

mark frowns at the statement, leaning back into the couch and pulling his folded legs against his chest, his head resting on his knees. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

 

jinyoung wants to face-palm. he hasn’t told mark about what happened with shinhyeo and ana. he pulls his legs onto the couch and faces mark, rearranging himself so he’s mirroring mark’s position. and then he tells mark the entire story of what happened between the shelves of the university library two days ago. okay, that phrase probably gives the wrong idea, but whatever.

 

mark doesn’t talk all the while that jinyoung’s narrating, and doesn’t talk for a whole minute after jinyoung’s finished talking as well. a sudden doubt seizes jinyoung over whether he should’ve said anything at all. it’s a little much for someone he’s met a little over a month, yes? it’s a little much to turn down someone you’ve been crushing on for two years for someone who’s made themselves part of your life only in the last thirty-three days. jinyoung thinks he’s weird. he thinks emotions are weird, that they work in the most unpredictable ways, resulting in the most unexpected of decisions, but jinyoung doesn’t regret turning shinhyeo down.

 

“say something,” whines jinyoung, then the silence gets too much for him to bear, reaching out to poke mark with his toe. mark finally looks up at him. thank god, jinyoung had been beginning to wonder if mark had fallen asleep with the amount that he wouldn’t look at him, his forehead on his knees. there’s an amused smile on mark’s face as he raises his face, a light flush of pink adorning his face, but jinyoung’s pretty sure that’s from the fever.

 

“okay,” says mark simply. jinyoung’s unimpressed, and he makes sure it shows on his face. “i’m honored,” mark adds, with a little nod. jinyoung buries his head in his hands, embarrassment overcoming him, muttering incoherent garbled sentences into his palms until mark, giggling, pats his head to get him to lift his gaze.

 

“what do you expect me to say?” asks mark, hand resting on jinyoung’s hair, eyebrows raised in questioning gaiety.

 

“i don’t know,” admits jinyoung weakly. this is getting to be too much for his cringe system to bear.

 

“what did you talk about with ana, anyway? i’ve barely ever heard her talk,” remarks mark, a weak change in subject, but jinyoung is grateful nevertheless. 

 

“we just had a conversation about how we were both incapable of holding conversations,” recounts jinyoung, a smile adorning his face as he pulls up the memory. mark frowns suddenly, as though remembering something. “it’s weird, i know, let’s just change the subject.”

 

“okay,” nods mark. he sits cross-legged, hands clasped on his lap seriously. he looks jinyoung dead in the eye, just so jinyoung can’t look away. mark is the kind of person to never make eye-contact if he can help it, so it’s captivating when he actually does. “you going to tell what’s got you upset? i saw the way you shut that book.”

 

“ah,” says jinyoung dumbly. “nothing of importance. ghosts from the past are making their reappearances, and i’m not exactly over the moon about that.”

 

“you’re not the only one who’s going through that.” mark presses his lips together, like he’s unsure of whether to go on, but he doesn’t look away from jinyoung. his eyes are doing that thing where they’re reflecting what he’s thinking again, so jinyoung suddenly notices that he’s not the only one who’s sitting on thoughts.

 

“penny for your thoughts,” blurts out jinyoung, instigated by the kaleidoscopic way that mark’s eyes change emotions. he’s curious now, and he’s got to know. jaebum says he suffers from chronic curiosity. jinyoung says he’s not wrong.

 

“my thoughts are worth more than that, thank you,” sniffs mark faux-obnoxiously. he coughs a couple times into his hands. “let’s make a deal. i’ll tell you my story, and you tell me yours. how about that?”

 

“sure,” agrees jinyoung blindly. he’s okay with telling his story. he’s wanted to spill it to someone for the longest time, and mark seems like the ideal subject, especially considering that he already knows jinyoung inside out, even without the crucial bit of information from jinyoung’s past. mark, on the other hand, hasn’t been all that open about his life before he came to korea, something that jinyoung has dropped casual questions about now and then, only to be faced with dismissive barely-one-sentence answers, often followed by the phrase, ‘but i digress’.

 

they have a short impromptu staring match, but mark blinks first, so he has to start. “that’s not even fair,” he complains, pushing his glasses up to his forehead and rubbing his eyes. “i’m sick. i can barely keep my eyes open.”

 

“you started it,” retorts jinyoung, knowing full well that he’s using a kindergarten comeback. “go on, what specters have you?”

 

mark shoots him a look regarding his choice of words, something that jinyoung is used to. “so recently, and by recently, i mean yesterday, i received an instagram notification.”

 

“what a surprise,” smirks jinyoung, a prod at the mark’s inactive excuse of an instagram account. jinyoung didn’t even have one, he doesn’t have the time to put in the work for it, because he has the tendency of getting obsessed with things, and instagram is too dangerous for his easily swayed mind. his tumblr blog was already too high maintenance, so he couldn’t afford to make time for another social media profile.

 

“shut up,” drawls out mark, slapping jinyoung’s shoulder with no heart to it. jinyoung allows a small apology, being sure to use the right word, and not ‘sorry’. “okay, this notification said someone followed me. i took a look at the name, and my heart freaking stopped.”

 

“dramatic,” remarks jinyoung. despite being so curious, he’s a pretty shitty listener at times, and this is one of those times. “why so?”

 

mark pulls on his fingers a bit, his voice just heard as he says, “it was my ex-boyfriend.”

 

jinyoung does a double take. that’s news to him. mark had never said anything about having an ex-boyfriend. he’s pretty sure his eyes are huge right now, and that every part of him is screaming that he’s about to scream. this is  _ news  _ to  _ him, goddammit! _ jinyoung doesn’t handle things—like being bestowed with this piece of news—very well.

 

“you had an ex-boyfriend? the first time you met me, no one else knew you were even gay. no one except your family, and  _ me _ ! you said  _ i _ was the only living person who knew!” jinyoung comes off sounding a little more offended than surprised, jabbing his finger into his own chest to make a point. probably not the best strategy, but mark isn’t getting mad himself. in fact, the smallest amounts of guilt are gradually seeping into his expression.

 

“yeah, about that—”

 

“oh my  _ god _ ,” gapes jinyoung, stretching out the vowel sound of the last word. he folds his arms in front of his chest with a huff. “what now? you’re going to tell me that you secretly hate chocolate ice cream?”

 

mark puts a hand to his heart. “heaven forbid!” he exclaims dramatically, eliciting (yet another) eye-roll from jinyoung. his expression melts into one betraying a hint of exasperation. “can you just listen to me?”

 

“alright, alright,” grumbles jinyoung, picking at his cuticles with a pout. he thinks he hears mark say something that sounds close to “cute” but before he can call him out for it, mark's moved on.

 

“so, basically, yes, i did have an ex-boyfriend back in l.a., in high school. he actually, at one point, was my best friend, so we had one of those clichéd stories when two best friends fall in love with each other.” mark says the words in a way so attached yet detached, because jinyoung can feel that this is a little personal, but part of the way that mark’s saying it makes it sound like he’s recounting something that happened to someone else.

 

“love is a little much for a high school romance,” comments jinyoung absentmindedly. something about the fondly reminiscent look in mark’s eyes as he says the last sentence touches a nerve of his, though he’s not exactly sure why. he thinks it’s probably his protective senses acting up, considering it’s a known fact that this story isn’t going to end well.

 

“that’s true,” acknowledges mark, tilting his head in an allowing fashion. “even after a pretty shit confession”—jinyoung raises his eyebrows at this point, so mark somewhat elaborates—“we were the only ones in the locker room after a game, i was still confused about my feelings, but lucus kissed me and i didn’t stop him, so we both took that as a yes.”

 

“locker room?”

 

“yeah, we played soccer.”

 

“football,” corrects jinyoung, shaking his head. “americans and their weird-ass exceptions.”

 

mark kicks out at him, but jinyoung catches his foot before it connects with his torso. mark huffs impatiently, “are you going to keep interrupting me?”

 

“no, you can go on,” grants jinyoung, waving his hand obscurely as a gesture of allowance. he’s exceedingly interested now.

 

“all right, so like i was saying, after that confession, nothing really changed much. except, like,” mark clears his throat, evidently uncomfortable. the way he pulls on his fingers turns a little more acute, and jinyoung has to bat mark's hands away from each other. “the touching part of it.”

 

“okay.” jinyoung cringes internally, suffering second-hand embarrassment, but he doesn’t let it show on his face to the best of his ability. “what was he like, though?”

 

“he was great.” mark nods earnestly, his eyes acquiring that faraway look yet again. “he wasn’t technically considered anyone special by social standards, but he was good company. he had an amazing sense of humor and i guess that was the chief reason why i liked him. he was nice. to everyone, but nicer to me. it felt good to be appreciated, you know? i guess we both kinda felt that way about things.”

 

“right,” says mark, clearing his throat once again. “but anyway, we obviously didn’t tell anyone, but we were reckless and running high on hormones, so we got...caught.” he takes a deep breath, like it’s causing him pain to get the words out.

 

“you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to,” says jinyoung abruptly, the agony in mark’s expression causing him to say this. as much as he would like to know, he doesn’t want to put mark through this if it’s that much of a struggle for him.

 

mark shakes his head, fixing his expression into one of assumed normalcy. jinyoung reaches over and gives mark’s hand a little squeeze, to which he smiles gratefully. “it’s weird, i never thought i’d have to talk about this again. but anyway, yeah, we got caught. in a closet, and that was the most ironic part of it.” he spares a bitter chuckle. “like, the head of the student council had asked the janitor for some help with searching for something, and they opened the fucking closet and were faced with the sight of lucus’s tongue in my mouth.”

 

jinyoung grimaces at the graphic details. mark says sheepishly, “i didn’t know how else to put it.”

 

“doesn’t matter, what happened?”

 

“what do you think happened? nothing good, obviously.” mark places his palms on his knees, tapping out a restless rhythm. he pulls the duvet that he’s wrapped in around him a little closer. jinyoung is silent as he waits for the other to go on. “the story got out, and it was so weird. for both of us, because now everyone would look at us like we had three heads. sure, there were a few people who were cool with it. i don’t like to use the words ‘i was bullied’ because that sounds worse than what happened, which was just people subtly being hostile to my face and openly being hostile behind my back.”

 

jinyoung knows exactly what that feels like, so he nods along sympathetically. he’s holding his breath, because he can sense a ‘but…’ coming. he’s proved to be right.

 

“but the worst part was that  _ that  _ wasn’t the worst part. it was how lucus and i reacted to it. he suddenly cut off all contact with me, telling everyone that it was all my fault.” mark shoots jinyoung a significant look to explain his words further. jinyoung catches the implication and wishes he didn’t. “but i didn’t shut up and take the blame lying down, because it wasn’t my fault. my temper was so much worse back then, and he had a pretty explosive one too.”

 

“not a good combination,” says jinyoung, his voice barely a whisper as he shakes his head. he can see the shields that mark generally keeps around him drop with each word. jinyoung’s seeing the mark that’s been hidden away.

 

“no kidding,” says mark, throwing out the words like they leave a caustic taste in his mouth. if mark’s voice was initially weak because of his sore throat, it’s weaker now, the weight of time and recollections on it. “we got into really bad fights. we’d yell at each other with people watching, come up with the most creative insults—and i mean that in the worst way possible—, and accuse each other of things that never happened. it was hell. the school started picking sides, and every single thing that happened flew around so everyone knew.”

 

jinyoung’s still looking at mark, even though mark is very clearly not there at the moment. mark’s living through memories of years that he evidently hasn’t visited recently, and watching him makes jinyoung’s heart hurt a bit, because he wishes he could’ve been there back then. been there for mark. maybe he could’ve helped him out a bit, because he knows what it’s like to be in that situation. the truth remains that only the current jinyoung would’ve known how to help, and not his high school self, so he puts that thought away with a wish to build a time machine.

 

“things were at their lowest when we both ended up in the emergency room, him with a broken jaw and me with two broken ribs.” jinyoung claps a hand to his mouth. mark looks down at his own hands, voice low and despondent. “that was when i had to explain myself to my parents, and we came to a collective decision that i should probably do my undergrad abroad. i chose the first college that accepted me, and so here i am.” mark shrugs nonchalantly, like he just finished telling jinyoung about a regular work day.

 

jinyoung doesn’t quite know what to say, the entire story running through his head. it’s always been one of his weaknesses, the necessity to say something coupled with the absence of comforting words to proffer. he just sits there, dumbstruck, praying that the right words will swoop down and claim his voice. lucky for him, mark knows exactly what’s going through his mind.

 

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” he says gently. “it’s in the past, it doesn’t matter now.”

 

jinyoung reaches out and takes mark’s warm hand, rubbing his thumb over mark's knuckles, hoping that’ll convey what he wants to say without him having to find the words. mark gets it, squeezing his hand back in return. jinyoung pulls mark into a side-hug, almost knocking the glasses off mark, who laughs softly.

 

“it’s really okay. i’m really okay,” he says again, fixing his glasses and leaning on jinyoung’s shoulder as jinyoung rests his cheek on top of mark’s head. “your turn.”

 

jinyoung blinks, then realizes he has his own quota of emotional sharing to do. they did have a deal after all, and mark’s looking at him with expectation in his eyes. suddenly, jinyoung’s rational thoughts merge into a jumbled mess of disjointed phrases, and he takes a minute to sort them out and form a few sentences.  _ i can’t do this, i can’t do this. _

 

mark, probably sensing his thoughts, prompts, “who is it about?”

 

jinyoung’s words are scarcely discernible as he breathes, “my old best friend.”

 

“what was her name?”

 

some voice in jinyoung is telling him that a damn dam is going to break inside him once he says the name. another voice reminds him that he has to anyway. “jeon jiyol.” his voice cracks on the last syllable, like saying her name is an acknowledgement that completely negates any attempt of his to get over her departure.

 

“do you want to tell me about her?” mark’s babying jinyoung now, and jinyoung, under general circumstances, would object, but now he’s okay with it, because mark’s voice is soothing. it calms him down. so jinyoung opens his mouth to tell mark the story of jeon jiyol.

 

the story of the girl who didn’t look back, for she knew of the disaster she left in her wake.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: this story was begun because of two ideas - one being a meeting in a long amusement park line and the other being the story of jeon jiyol. i literally modified the first to the extent that i could fit the second in, which is a lot because my original plan was a fucking ONESHOT.
> 
> also after deep consultation (kidding, i just mentioned that i really wanted to finish posting the story) with my awesomest writer friend lia, i have decided to just give you guys updates every alternate day :) i just want this out there and completed <3
> 
> Question of the Chapter: Jiyol is someone who Jinyoung is deeply attached to, even after she has "left" him. Who do you think Jiyol would've been to Jinyoung, and why do you think he's still so attached?  
> Writer's Q: Wow, this chapter had a lotta shit in it. Which was the part that stuck out to you in any way?


	15. Chapter 15

jeon jiyol didn’t look it, not with her almost unnaturally black wavy hair that was in a bob-cut around her face and monochromatic sense of fashion, but she was exceptional. she had the brain capacity to learn in five minutes, what it would take anyone other person an hour at least. she would lose all track of time when doing problems that people around her would have to physically drag her away from her books. that was on the rare occasion that she actually did any studying, for mostly she enjoyed things that all other people did, like hanging out with her friends and watching movies while stuffing a week’s worth of popcorn down her throat.

 

indeed, jeon jiyol was exceptional, but she never let it show more than she could help it. from the outside, she was just like anyone else. she had a normal enough story. her father was a korean while her mother was an american, and jiyol was born in the u.s.a., living there until she was fifteen, at which age the entire family shifted back to korea since mr. jeon got transferred to a branch in his home country.

 

she’d been a little insecure at first, because though she’d grown up knowing korean as well, she wasn’t sure of herself when she was speaking to native speakers, for her american accent had the tendency of spilling into her words. on her first day at h.c.y. high school—which happened to fall when almost half the school year had passed—, she’d figured out her way on her own, taking a seat near the window and not making any attempt to start a conversation with anyone. not that anyone was actually interested in talking to her. they all had their separate groups. they were speaking with their respective friends, not paying any attention to her.

 

she could see a group of people watching her out of the corner of her eye, hearing the word ‘new girl’ being thrown around a few times, but none of them approached her, so it was with a sigh of relief that she stood up to greet the class teacher, mrs. woo, with the other students. the teacher then dragged her to the front of the class and introduced her. jiyol had prepared herself for this, so she went through the motions mechanically, mumbling a quick introduction to her classmates, all of whom were staring at her, none of them blinking much. she sat down with her face burning, eyes trained on her textbook.

 

then there was a bit of a commotion, as the door to the classroom was flung open and a boy stood there, panting and very red. mrs. woo gave the boy a massive eye-roll, to which he grinned impishly. “late _again_?”

 

“i’m sorry, mrs. woo,” said the boy, although he didn’t seem sorry at all. the teacher stared at him and he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his smile as cheeky as ever, eliciting a few laughs from his classmates. jiyol deduced, from the way that the others were reacting to this boy, that he was actually pretty popular, possibly one of those people who were seemingly perfect at everything. he didn’t look all that bad either, and jiyol could hear two of the girls in front of her whispering about how the boy looked exceptionally like a prince that day, even with his school uniform and slightly disheveled appearance. jiyol wanted to roll her eyes at that, though she did find it vaguely amusing.

 

“all right, take a seat,” said mrs. woo defeatedly, like she didn’t know what to do with this boy. the male lit up all the more, if that was even possible, and rushed inside the classroom, pausing to give his friends a couple fistbumps before making his way to the only empty seat in the classroom, which happened to be placed right next to jiyol. she didn’t look at him when he sat down, instead keeping her gaze directed to the front of the class.

 

“oi, jaebutt, how much did i miss?” jiyol could hear the boy next to her whisper to the boy in front of him. a corner of her mouth couldn’t help quirking upwards. ‘jaebutt’? she’d come across a few unfortunate nicknames in her life, but jaebutt was a new low. she would snicker if she could.

 

“not much, she just started.” something about the second boy’s very voice caught jiyol’s attention. it was deep and rough and ridged, his way of speaking being one where he barely opened his mouth, speaking through his teeth. jiyol couldn’t resist sneaking a glance. luck wasn’t completely on her side as both boys caught her looking over, having been staring in her direction themselves, so in a way, both parties were caught. the first boy decided to save the situation slightly, shooting jiyol a full smile that made crinkles appear around his eyes.

 

jiyol flashed him a half-smile in return, though barely thinking about it. her attention had been focused on the second boy, and she suddenly felt like she’d been punched in the stomach, for he’d knocked all the breath out of her. to the untrained eye, he would’ve appeared to be nobody to pay attention, but years worth of people-watching had honed jiyol’s way of decrypting people based on one glance. the boy had wavy hair that fell over his forehead. his face had remained emotionless for the most part when he met jiyol’s eyes but his eyes had betrayed the slightest amount of curiosity. he definitely played a sport, probably football, because something told jiyol he was just that type. he had a couple scratches on his arm, probably from his pet, most likely a cat.

 

and yes, jiyol got all that information for looking at the boy for less than two seconds. she had signed him off as the kind who liked to act like he’s tough, like he’s _all that_ , but was secretly quite soft and possibly loved cats. jiyol loved cats herself, so something told her that she’d like to get to know him a little better. mrs. woo was droning on about geography, and jiyol shut her out, chancing another glance at the second boy, who she’d christened cat kid in her head.

 

her eyes wandered to cat kid’s right arm, that was lazily draped over the desk, his hand tapping out an idle and inaudible rhythm with his pencil. yup, those were definitely scratches caused by a cat. the pencil sat uncomfortably in his grip, causing her to deduce that he was maybe a left-hander. as he switched his pencil to his other hand to underline something in his book, her suspicions were confirmed, and she smiled to herself. her eyes went up to his face. he had beautiful, cat-like eyes, a piercing in his ear and pouty, plush lips. jiyol was probably exaggerating it in her head, a little too occupied to fully admit that she might have been a little smitten. suddenly, probably feeling her gaze on him, he turned, meeting her eyes full on. jiyol’s heart jumped, but she didn’t look away. the boy studied her face for a split second, his features rearranging themselves into a teasing smirk.

 

that’s when jiyol decided to look away, not wanting to betray any more in her face.

 

she took a few deep breaths, and sat calmly through the rest of class, fighting down the urge to glance in cat kid’s direction once more. she could hear the first boy and cat kid whispering occasionally. they bickered like best friends, which jiyol guessed they were, though the first boy’s words were generally a little more cheerful and perky, as compared to cat kid’s one-phrase answers, that left his mouth in a way that made jiyol overly conscious whenever he spoke. she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, it just so happened that she sat there and their words happened to carry.

 

at the end of the class, jiyol was keeping her books back in her bag, searching for the ones that she needed for the next class, when she noticed someone’s hand tap her desk. she looked up, noticing that it was the first boy. she raised her eyebrows.

 

“um, you’re new, right?” he started, his speech slightly stunted and ungainly with discomfort. for someone so obviously admired by his classmates, he didn’t seem to have much confidence in talking to someone he didn’t know. “jeon jiyol?”

 

“yeah,” she replied flatly.

 

“my name’s park jinyoung.” the cheeriness in his voice was evidently a bit forced, and he probably noticed that himself, considering the way he scratched his nape awkwardly.

 

“oh,” said jiyol, not knowing what else had to be said. “okay.”

 

jinyoung nodded, and once he’d figured out that she wasn’t going to say anything, he excused himself, making his way back to his friends, a group of about six other males, all of whom had been watching the interaction rather intently, bursting into raucous laughter as jinyoung joined them. the group also included cat kid, who gave jinyoung a teasing punch. that’s when jiyol got to see cat kid’s whole smile. it changed his entire face, his eyes curving in and almost disappearing, his even set of teeth showcased through the way his lips parted into a crescent. it made his entire face light up, completely change, and it was _beautiful_ , and jiyol was sure that even though the smile was intended for jinyoung, she could say for a fact that he definitely caught her eye.

 

and then he fucking _winked_.

 

jiyol didn’t possess the ability to turn red, so it was at that moment that she thanks the heavens for not giving her that ability. she simply turned back to her bag, although by now she’d forgotten which class she had next.

 

she didn’t become friends with either of them immediately. it happened gradually over the next one week. jinyoung would make jokes about things their teachers would say at every opportunity, his voice loud enough to carry over to jiyol. the first couple times, jiyol merely smiled inwardly and didn’t betray any hint that she’d heard them, but the fourth time it happened, it had been so funny that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking at jinyoung and smiling her appreciation. this happened over and over, to the point when jinyoung would address jiyol separately, without caring about whether cat kid was listening. cat kid, she’d found out by now, was actually named im jaebum (thereby successfully explaining jinyoung’s nickname for him), and his life purpose was to get annoyed by and annoy jinyoung. it was amusing to watch.

 

jaebum turned out to be one of those people who didn’t waste words. jinyoung started to join jiyol for lunch by the end of the week, and jaebum tagged along as well. he didn’t say much, looking almost boring next to his hyperactive best friend, but the times when he did decide to speak mattered a lot. jiyol found herself quite amused by the way he spoke, wanting to hear his voice over and over again.

 

jiyol made her own friends, and her own enemies. her brilliant academic performance won her many adversaries, but she ended up making friends with most of the bottom rankers of the class, who’d at first come to her for help with subject matter, but then end up deciding that she was human enough to be treated like any other person. all these friendships were superficial, though, compared to how deep her friendships with jinyoung and jaebum ran. they had their own group of friends too, one that jiyol didn’t fit in, but the two boys turned into the constants of her life.

 

jinyoung ended up becoming her best friend. their friendship was playful at first, limiting their contact and conversation to school. a couple months after they met, jinyoung casually asked jiyol if she wanted to hang out over the weekend, and she’d said yes, automatically. jinyoung had proved himself time and time again to be good company, and jiyol wasn’t worried about holding conversation, because he was really good at that. awkward silences never seemed to exist around jinyoung.

 

that was the day when she realized that it was actually jinyoung who was the secret softie, that his high-spirited exterior was but a smokescreen for a person who thought beyond his years. they talked for six and a half hours that day. despite arguing about superficial details, all their core beliefs were the same, the topics they conversed about ranging from music to the purpose of human existence.

 

jiyol even surprised herself by being open with the observations she made about strangers, which was a first for her. she generally never spoke about what she could derive from other people’s appearances because she felt people would be weirded out and treat her like a circus act, but jinyoung—who, by the way, was the very opposite of observant—reacted differently, expressing how impressed it made him but not pressing her with questions or forcing her into doing her observation thing. jiyol had already been comfortable with jinyoung’s company, but that was the day that they truly found their place in each other’s comfort space.

 

jinyoung was the first person who made jiyol feel emotions reminiscent to having a sibling. they grew to be fiercely protective with each other, and though they had other friends as well, nothing else compared to the conversation they had. jiyol ruled out the danger of either of them falling for each other. there was something about jinyoung that jiyol was suspicious about, but she couldn’t voice the thought to him without him becoming weirded out, so she chose not to.

 

jaebum… well, jaebum was a different case. jiyol didn’t even bother to deny to herself that she had feelings for the boy. the feelings grew with every conversation she had with him, every day she spent in his company. he was funny and nice, and though jiyol acknowledged his faults—his quick temper and his stubbornness—, she did know that it wasn’t anything that she absolutely couldn’t live with. and it was no secret that he was equally infatuated by her, especially seen during the times when he’d find ways to do small things for her (even though she insisted that she is an independent woman, and _why does he want to anything for her, anyway?_ but he’d just put on his eye-smile and ask her whether the fact that he wanted to do it wasn’t enough), or the times when he’d come and casually drape his arm over her shoulder when she was talking to guys besides him or jinyoung. their flirting got so obvious, that even oblivious jinyoung caught on, and after a point gave up on trying to hide his eye-rolls.

 

jinyoung, expectedly, turned out to be the first (and only) person who jiyol admitted her crush to, the result of which was a three-hour phone call predominated by high-pitched squealing (mostly from jinyoung’s end).

 

jiyol had to do the confessing part in the end, because she was sick and tired of the _who will actually finally say it?_ game that she was playing with jaebum. she kept it simple. it was halfway through their sophomore year, was during match season, when jiyol, by some miracle, had been picked for the badminton team. she’d just finished her match with another girl, and she’d been narrowly defeated, and she made her way sheepishly to jaebum and jinyoung, who’d been cheering for her the whole time from the sidelines.

 

“well, i messed up,” she admitted, making a face.

 

“are you kidding? you were brilliant! luck just wasn’t on your side, it’s okay,” said jinyoung emphatically, all his words in a rush, filled with support and indignation at the outcome.

 

jaebum simply put his arm on her shoulder comfortingly. “hey, take it easy, it’s just a game.”

 

“that’s rich, coming from you,” she laughed, smacking his chest. “fine words from the boy who raged for three hours after his team lost the football game.” he stuck his tongue out at her, and she grinned back, shrugging, “hey, i’m okay. badminton just happens to be the only sport i’m good at. it’s not like i actually _like_ it all that much anyway.”

 

“oh, yeah? what do you like then?” asked jaebum, as the three of them began walking in the direction of their classroom, where they had left their stuff.

 

“i like you,” she’d blurted out carelessly. both jinyoung and jaebum had frozen, staring at her to see what she said next. “what?” she’d shrugged. “i’m not taking it back. if you won’t say it, i will. i like you.”

 

jaebum had slipped his arm off her shoulder so he could face her properly, so he could reply properly. jinyoung looked like he was holding his breath his whole time, that _no, he was not fine, thank you very much_ , and _how blessed must he be to see his two best friends confessing to each other?_ he was so overly dramatic that he made jiyol almost laugh out loud. it had been too late to take it back, anyway, so jiyol didn’t regret it, and besides, one of them had to say it eventually anyway. she was glad she did.

 

everything was seemingly perfect. time passed by unforgivingly, even as the three of them made it a point to enjoy every moment. they were all closer than close, even though jinyoung would constantly roll his eyes at that and say that he didn’t know jaebum. they came to call themselves triple-j, even though jinyoung would joke that they should just call themselves j.j. with the amount they’d make him the third wheel.

 

that was just jinyoung being overdramatic. jaebum would never be able to go a single day without ribbing jinyoung, which jinyoung always pretended to hate, and of course, jiyol couldn’t go a single day without having at least a half-hour long conversation with jinyoung. jinyoung and jaebum were the only people who jiyol came to care about, with a depth that scared her.

 

it had been about a quarter into their senior year when things completely changed for them. jinyoung decided to come out of the closet and tell the world that _yes, he liked the male gender._ he’d already told jiyol about this, and she admitted that she’d suspected it for a long time. jaebum had given jinyoung a long stare when he had told him, jiyol’s hand on his shoulder as damage control, but had simply nodded. jinyoung had the expression on his face that he knew jaebum would react this way, and he’d probably have to walk on eggshells around jaebum from now on, but then jaebum had walked forward and given him a huge hug, promising to always be there for him, and telling him that he could trust him. it was the only cheesy moment they’d ever had, and it made jiyol proud. they were all on the same page.

 

the rest of the school, however, was flipping the pages too fast, for none of them seemed to be on the same page. jinyoung’s group of friends had burst into uncomfortable laughter when he told them, telling him to stop joking around. but then jaebum supported him, and the laughter ceased until the only emotion that the boys projected was shock, interspersed with some lingering disbelief.

 

they eventually stopped hanging out with jinyoung. jiyol could feel very obvious vibes of hostility when jinyoung told her about the times when he was around any of them, so when there came a day when they severed all contact with jinyoung, she really wasn’t surprised. it happened in less than two weeks, and jinyoung took it with a nod, saying he didn’t expect it to go any other way. if any of the other boys even dared to look in jinyoung’s direction as an indication that he had been brought up in their conversation, jaebum would glare them down until every single one of them looked away.

 

jiyol won’t forget the day when jinyoung was a few minutes late to their usual bus stop. he’d generally give her and jaebum company until their bus came, after which he'd cycle home with his neighbour. she’d decided to go back and check for him. jaebum hadn’t come to school that day, so jinyoung’s absence slightly worried her. she started walking to their classroom, stopping dead in her tracks when she noticed a couple students in front of her.

 

she recognized the boys. they were in their grade, but in a different section, and they were standing in front of jinyoung, their backs to jiyol. jinyoung said something that jiyol couldn’t catch, and tried to make his way past them, but they pushed him back, landing a well-aimed kick at his stomach. jinyoung fell heavily to the concrete floor, and the boy kicked him again. jiyol lost her shit, removing her shoe off her left foot, running forward and swinging it, finding satisfaction in the noise it made while connecting with the boy’s head.

 

both boys whirled in her direction. she was breathing heavily, shaking from the anger running through her veins. jinyoung shook his head at her, but she paid him no heed. the boy who hadn’t been hit told her to leave, because he didn’t hit girls. she told him to try it for once, because she wasn’t going anywhere. she didn’t expect him to actually slap her across the face. winded, she kicked out blindly, catching the boy between the legs. a string of expletives left his mouth and she told them firmly to leave and never talk to jinyoung ever again, warning them that she would yell for a teacher right then unless they beat it.

 

she helped jinyoung up, the boy clutching his stomach helplessly. he apologized for not beating them up for her, and she told him that wasn’t necessary, that she was thanking every star of hers that she’d decided to come and check to see where he was. the guilt never left jinyoung, though. that was the first time jiyol saw jinyoung cry, but unfortunately, it hadn’t been the last.   

 

the bubbly, cheeky boy named park jinyoung that jiyol had met on her first day slowly melted away into a different park jinyoung, one that didn’t need his smokescreen anymore, for who was he really trying to charm? with all the time that jiyol spent with him, she could see him gradually becoming a little more like her. emotional, attached, completely independent but at the same time insecure, lost in thought a majority of the time. it brought out the side of him susceptible to getting hurt, and jiyol didn’t know what to say every single time she would catch glimpses of that side, so she’d give him a hug and tell him that the world was lucky to have him.

 

jinyoung always said it didn’t bother him, that this was the consequences of him being the way he was, and that he could deal with it, because he was nothing but proud of the way he was, but sometimes jiyol could see the cracks in his smile, the sadness in his eyes, and it would hurt her right down to her core. she made sure to always be there to listen to him, no matter what.

 

jiyol and jaebum called themselves jinyoung’s bodyguards as a joke, but there was more than a slight truth to it. jaebum stepped up to the task of protecting jinyoung like no other, living up to his promise of being there for jinyoung. he’d make sure to keep jinyoung in his field of vision at all times, not tolerating a single word said against him, and losing his other friends as well as he continued to stick up for the only friend of his who mattered. being in school felt like there was a cloud hanging over their head, but they didn’t let it get to them, going about their days like nothing was wrong.

 

there was a series of lectures for all the boys of the senior year towards the end of the year, and that was when jiyol first met laon. she’d been by the school auditorium to pick up jinyoung and jaebum after the first lecture was over on her way back to class, and she’d run head-first into one of the lecturers, an army sergeant by the name of kim laon, who was only four years older than her, as she found out from jinyoung later. as the lecture continued over the next two days, she saw laon on both days, and on the last day, he’d even struck up a conversation with her.

 

he told her that he was recently discharged from the army, and was staying in seoul so he could pursue higher studies at one of the universities. he had a pleasant enough demeanor, his dimple coming into view when he smiled. she saw obvious signs of interest in his eyes, punctuated by the way he was low-key flirting during their exchange, but she firmly pushed him out of her mind. she had jaebum, and there was no way she’d even look at anyone else like that. however, it did fluster her that someone else actually showed interest in her. that incident was soon dismissed from her thoughts.

 

graduation felt like a breath of fresh air, a release from having to be around the people who didn’t want to be around them either. jinyoung, jaebum and jiyol were all smiles on their graduation day. it was one of the happiest days of jiyol’s life, with plenty of laughs and photos. jinyoung caught a beautiful picture of jaebum spinning jiyol around, immortalizing the happiness reflected on her face. her favorite picture was the one they’d taken together, jaebum with one arm around jiyol and one around jinyoung, their faces all smushed together in one frame and radiating contentment. their plan was to enjoy the summer together, and in the fall, they’d be starting college together.

 

yet, that summer, everything changed.

 

jiyol’s and jaebum’s relationship hit a rocky stretch. jiyol wanted to be sure of how serious their relationship was, for there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted it to be a long-term thing, but he wasn’t sure. he treated their relationship like it was just a high school fling, and the difference in opinion led to a bit of friction between them. it begun with petty bickering, but one day, while jinyoung while in jinhae at his grandparents’ house, they’d gotten into a huge fight, and jaebum suggested that maybe they take a break, for both of them, at least until they sorted themselves out. jiyol had decided to go for a walk to calm herself down, for her emotions were but a mess, and by some coincidence, she bumped into someone she knew. knew scarcely, but still knew.

 

kim laon.

 

it was a decision made in a moment of weakness, the decision of confiding in him, but jinyoung wasn’t picking up his phone and jiyol really needed to talk to someone, the emotional hurricane in her too much to ignore. laon was a good listener, saying all the right things. he walked her back to her house, keeping a respectable distance from her. he didn’t try anything fishy, and used all his manners like a gentleman.

 

meeting laon again was her next mistake.

accepting his comfort, the next.

falling for him, the last.

 

then two weeks before the new college term began, jiyol packed a small suitcase of her things, including a couple college acceptance letters, then sat down and penned a long note. it was addressed to her parents, and it pleaded for their forgiveness that she was leaving. she said she’d left to make a different life for herself, a better life with a man who made her happy. she asked them not to take this to the police, to trust her for she was an adult who knew what she was doing. she told them she loved them, but that this was a decision that she thought would be right. she added a small note at the end to jinyoung, asking him to hate her, for she deserved to be hated by him more than anything else in the world. she told him to take care of himself, to keep smiling with those crinkles around his eyes, to find someone he could call his one day.

 

then she went downstairs, where laon was waiting with his car. he asked her if she was okay with this, and she replied in the affirmative, letting him kiss her hand in assurance. they drove away into the sunset, headed for the airport, taking the first plane out.

 

the first plane to the united states.

 

==

 

**_—18 MARCH_ **

**_13:36_ **

  


jinyoung told the story from his perspective, everything that he’d been a part of, everything jiyol had done for him, everything jiyol had been to him. he told mark about how they met, about jiyol’s amazing deduction skills, about how jiyol and jaebum were the cutest couple to him back then, about how jiyol would’ve done anything for him, and how he’d have done anything for her. he speaks of the times when everything was standing so beautiful, shimmering in lavish splendor, right before it all came crashing down on all of them, and of how they rebuilt it all, only for her to move one brick and have the whole thing come crashing down all over again.

 

“she and jaebum were like that sickeningly sweet couple that you roll your eyes at and call annoying to their face, but you’re actually thinking that you need a relationship like that, you know what i mean?” jinyoung rants, the emotional struggle of him having to recount everything causing him to hold mark’s hand a little too tight. mark doesn’t seem to mind, for he just nods along to jinyoung’s words. “he was so hung up about her for so long. it hurt me so much to know that he was literally tearing to pieces inside, and yet he wouldn’t let me say anything about it, let me even attempt to comfort him a bit. he’d just never say anything, keep it all inside. he thinks ignoring your problems makes them go away.”

 

“i relate,” mumbles mark, almost inaudibly.

 

“when she left, it actually brought me and jaebum closer. i barely slept those days. i blamed myself, you know. she’d been a little down, the last few days that she’d talked to me, and i just thought it was because she and jaebum still weren’t talking, and i didn’t want to bring it up because i knew she was going through a lot because of that.” jinyoung breaks himself off to take a breath, and mark gives him an encouraging pat on the back. the ravenet breathes out slowly, feeling like the feelings that he kept shut up all this time are just flowing out him with the words. “it was awful. all the time, i’d think, what if? what if i’d noticed the signs? what if i hadn’t been so darn oblivious?”

 

“as much as i get what you’re saying, i do know that there would be no point in thinking about this after she’d left,” says mark, his words not sound condescending, but soothing.

 

jinyoung nods before he goes on. “i’d think of all kinds of scenarios, ones where she was actually kidnapped, and stuff like that. i didn’t want to believe that she left by choice. every time i actually got some sleep, i’d see her dead, or in some awful situation,” jinyoung shudders. “jaebum used to sit up with me, and we’d just sit in silence. i’d tell him to go to sleep, and he’d tell me to shut the fuck up.” a laugh, watery with emotion.

 

“how’d you get past it?” asks mark.

 

“i really didn’t,” admits jinyoung. “when i start thinking about her, i can’t really stop… i get really down sometimes about her. but if you’re talking about the sleeping phase, i just… threw myself into work. jaebum made me join the dance team, so days after practice, i’d be too tired to even attempt to think. i’d spend all my free time at the library. youngjae put together a playlist for me, for when i couldn’t sleep.” he smiles, complete and genuine. “it was the sentiment behind that that made me fall asleep while listening to it, the fact that it was a reminder that there were people who cared about me, even if jiyol had left.”

 

“and i partly blame her for the way i am now… being around her changed me,” says jinyoung with a humorless chuckle after losing himself in his thoughts for a few seconds. “i used to be so hyperactive and i had so many friends and i could hold a conversation without thinking, and now i’m…” he gestures helplessly to himself. “...this.”

 

“And what’s wrong with that?” wonders mark out loud, a frown drawn across his face at those words. jinyoung looks a little startled at the sudden outburst, smiling slightly at mark’s indignation.

 

“i’m emotional as fuck. i get attached to people too easily and i smother them. i _smother_ them, hyung, until they prefer to exist without me. i freak out while talking to strangers. and i overthink everything,” lists jinyoung, ticking each flaw off his fingers. _and that’s just scratching the surface._

 

“you know, it’s rare to come across a guy who’s emotional, so it’s nice, you know, that you’re emotional, that you know what you’re feeling, that you don’t become afraid of what you feel. and you don’t smother people, i’m sure nobody would prefer an existence without you. a lot of people freak out while talking to strangers, it’s completely natural. overthinking is not a flaw.” mark mimics jinyoung’s actions, ticking each counterargument off his fingers.

 

jinyoung can’t help smiling at that. “i disagree, but thank you for trying.”

 

“i’m not spouting bullshit here, jinyoung,” says mark seriously. _i know, but you know i won’t accept it anyway._ he flinches suddenly and presses his fingers to his temples. “ah, sorry, headache.”

 

“calm yourself a bit, yeah?” suggests jinyoung, shaking his head.

 

mark sticks his tongue out at him, curling in on himself. “just go on.”

 

“about jiyol? alright, but there’s really not much else that i can say about her. i’ve told you pretty much all of it.” he sighs, a long exhale fluttering over his lips. “it’s just… that entire incident, it just plainly emphasized that people are… ephemeral. no one is going to stay. everyone is going to leave at one point or the other, that’s just the way it is.”

 

_everyone will leave._

_it may not be tomorrow, or next week._

_but they will._

_which is why the biggest mistake is to hold onto someone._

_because it’s like trying to keep a wave upon the sand._

 

“that’s a rather brutal view of it, isn’t it?” asks mark, sitting up and scooching a little closer to jinyoung. jinyoung pulls him a little closer, right onto his lap. mark looks a little pleasantly surprised, leaning back against jinyoung and adjusting his duvet so it covers both of them. jinyoung wraps his arms around mark’s middle, placing his chin on mark’s shoulder. the close proximity is comforting to jinyoung, who chooses not to say anything for a while.

 

when he finally speaks, he has an answer. “not really. it’s the truth. no matter how well you think you know someone, no matter how sure you are that they’ll stay, they never will. i made a decision, after jiyol left, to not get attached to anyone anymore, but i was already attached to jaebum and youngjae at that point, so i couldn’t do anything about that…” he tilts his head so that he’s looking up at mark. well, his eyes are directed in that direction, but they aren’t focused, uncertainty swimming in them, as though he doesn’t know whether to complete the sentence or not. “...but looks like i’m attached to you too now.”

 

mark can feel jinyoung’s grip around him tighten slightly, can feel the way jinyoung moves his head slightly so his forehead is pressed against mark’s shoulder instead, so that mark can’t see his face after he admits that. mark turns slightly in jinyoung’s grip and loops an arm around jinyoung’s neck, but jinyoung doesn’t look at him, embarrassment written all over his face. “yah, stupid.”

 

a little smile twists jinyoung’s lips upwards. “i’ve been way too open for one day.” he turns to look at mark, but quickly turns his head away again, only turning back with a surprised expression after mark presses a kiss to his cheek, pulling away and looking extremely self-satisfied.

 

“for someone who gives away affection so easily, you’re remarkably easy to fluster,” comments mark casually, not meeting jinyoung’s eyes himself. jinyoung’s stomach feels weird and fuzzy, the way it generally does after mark decides to randomly be affectionate with him. he’s still not used to it. “but what you said about people leaving? you have a point. i’m scared of getting attached to people too.”

 

a small silence permeates the atmosphere, giving jinyoung time to collect his thoughts. “you know the real reason i went to thrill zone that day, even when youngjae cancelled on me?” asks jinyoung tentatively. “it was because i was hoping to run into someone. not someone specific, not shinhyeo.” the name feels bitter in his mouth. “just someone i knew, an acquaintance. i wanted to have someone’s company. i know that since jaebum and youngjae have each other, i can’t third wheel all the time. i can’t spend all my time with them because there are going to be times when they want 2jae time.” mark smirks at the ship name. “so i was hoping that perhaps i could meet someone i knew fleetingly from before, and maybe get to know them better. i was hoping to find someone else to get attached to, so to speak. i kind of figured i ought to be meeting other people. i wanted to find someone who _i_ could spend time with.”

 

“did you meet someone like that?” there’s a teasing twang to mark’s voice, his breath fluttering over jinyoung’s ear.

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes. “no, instead i met you, the dumbass who was holding up the damn line while waiting for his date, who was of the wrong gender for him anyway,” he drawls out, shaking mark slightly, making him laugh.

 

mark’s laugh dies away into a silence, when he keeps his arms around jinyoung’s neck and his cheek smushed against jinyoung’s head and jinyoung holds onto mark like an anchor. he knows there’s no point trying to get detached from mark now. hell, he knew there was no point at the end of the first day he spent with him. he feels like after all this, there’s a weight off his chest, and the hollow feeling in his chest is less depressing and more liberating. “we’re never having deep talks again, okay?”

 

“not for a while, no,” agrees mark in a soft voice. he takes a deep breath, coughing once or twice. jinyoung scrunches his face up, patting mark gently on the back. he then places his hand to mark’s forehead. the fever has marginally come down, and a little bit of the light is back in his eyes. “medicine’s working, i’ll be fine,” says mark with a smile slightly closer to his usual bright grins.

 

“good,” murmurs jinyoung, shifting slightly so he can lean back properly against the cushions. mark falls forward, planting his hands on jinyoung’s chest as they both register the sudden proximity. their noses are less than an inch apart, and jinyoung becomes hyperaware of his own breathing. he stops his voice at his throat, pretty sure that the next words that would’ve come out of his mouth would’ve been _for fake boyfriends, we act a lot more like that when no one’s watching_.

 

mark’s eyes widen, and suddenly jinyoung realizes that _shit,_ he _didn’t_ stop himself from saying that, and that yes, every single one of those words has in fact, left his mouth. the whole thought has just been put out there, and mark doesn’t seem to know how to respond other than tearing his gaze away from jinyoung’s and staring elsewhere.

 

_oh wow, park jinyoung, what happened to your brain-mouth filter today?_

_shut up, i’m just not thinking!_

_and why not?_

_i’m just not._

_maybe you should take that back._

_but why? it’s true._

 

because it is true. when they meet in public, they always make sure to stop and talk to each other, whether they’re with their friends or not. they hold hands so often, so unconsciously, that it’s become instinctual for both of them to reach for the other’s hand. sometimes they walk together when they have classes in the same department (they’ve basically memorized each other’s schedules) and mark has his arm around jinyoung’s waist and jinyoung has his arm on mark’s shoulder, occasionally doing something dorky like messing with mark’s hair to annoy him, or pushing his glasses down his nose. and this is when they know they have an audience, because nobody walks by them and doesn’t turn their head. so they’re a little different, and everyone needs to express that they acknowledge that.

 

and yet, there’s no one else around when they fall asleep in the same bed (unless jaebum or jackson bursting in counts). there was no one else around during the holidays on the days when mark was curled up at jinyoung’s side, playing overwatch while jinyoung read, one arm of his around mark. there’s no one else around when jinyoung kisses mark on the cheek. and just now, there was no one else around when they legitimately were way too close for platonicity, or fake-boyfriend-icity, a scene that, written by any other writer than the one who’s writing from up there, would’ve ended in a way that jinyoung can’t bring himself to think about.

 

“you’ve got a point,” breathes mark finally. jinyoung has stopped mentally setting himself on fire by then. “we’re weird people.” he laughs, and jinyoung follows, effectively dispelling the awkwardness when mark quickly changes the subject, suggesting they watch something, because considering all the deep sharing they’ve been doing, they’ve earned it.

 

jinyoung fetches mark’s laptop, and they end up watching a few episodes of supernatural, that jinyoung started watching a week ago at jaebum’s suggestion, and got way too hooked, regretting not picking up the series earlier. jinyoung finishes his lunch, and mark even feels better enough to steal a few pieces of chicken from him. around three-thirty, jackson returned to the dorm to find jinyoung’s eyes glued to the screen, mark curled up and sleeping, tucked into jinyoung’s side.

 

“thanks a ton, jinyoung, you’re an angel,” gushes jackson with relief as jinyoung pauses the video on the screen and turns to smile at him. “thanks for taking care of my markiepooh.”

 

jinyoung will honestly never stop laughing at that nickname. he closes the laptop, asking whether the thermodynamics professor let jackson off. jackson laughs and tells him how he told his professor that he suddenly felt very sick and had to take off, and his friend had signed for him in a panic, and how he used his marvellous acting skills to convince the professor further.

 

“he believed you?” asks jinyoung incredulously.

 

“no, he just got really sick of my bad acting that he let me off to get rid of me,” explains jackson with a cheeky grin. he places a hand on mark’s caramel mop, looking at him with unadulterated fondness. “luckily i don’t have work today, so i can keep an eye on this idiot.”

 

jinyoung decides that he can be on his way right now, so when jackson heads to his bedroom to change his clothes, he gets up cautiously, supporting mark so that he doesn’t fall too heavily onto the sofa. mark still wakes up, though, and jinyoung places his hand comfortingly on mark’s cheek to try and get him to go back to sleep.

 

“jinyoungie, you’re leaving?” asks mark, voice hoarse with sickness and sleep.

 

he sounds sad at that, obvious at how he stretches the last word into a whine, which brings a mini-smile to jinyoung’s face. “yeah, i have work, but jackson’s back, alright?”

 

“okay,” whispers mark, eyelids fluttering as jinyoung runs his fingers through his hair comfortingly.

 

“feel better, hyung,” whispers back jinyoung, giving the brunet’s shoulder a little squeeze. he steps back, picking up his bookbag, and notices jackson standing on the wall of the passage between the bedroom and living room with an eyebrow arched and a smirk on his lips.

 

“don’t you dare,” warns jinyoung, eyes flashing fire.

 

jackson snickers, shooting jinyoung a little wink. “i wasn’t going to say anything.”

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's for my main hoe lia, who helped me get this damn backstory straight during one of the times when we stayed up talking until 5:30 in the morning <3  
> also i had a question for this chapter i sweAR but i jsut really wanna know your opinion on jiyol like hnnnggg this chapter kiLLED ME while i was writing it  
> anywae !! i hope y'all are staying healthy and having good days and drinking enough water !! i love you all !!  
> (also there a couple unanswered comments from the last chap but im getting to that rn ! ^^ )


	16. Chapter 16

**_—18 MARCH_ **

**_2:48_ **

  
  


mark wakes up, swaddled in blankets with his head on jackson’s lap. he’s on his own mattress, and jackson’s working out problems in a huge workbook by his side, attention evidently divided, as indicated by the way he jumps to attention at the mere flutter of mark’s eyelids.

 

“how’re you doing?” asks jackson, his voice softer than usual, the hand on mark’s head uncharacteristically gentle. mark finds this version of jackson vaguely fascinating. he’d get sick more often if it meant seeing this barely-wild side of jackson.

 

“kinda better, i think,” croaks out mark, throwing out a couple of coughs as well. jackson pats him on the back until he holds up a thumbs-up. “i wanna eat, then i can take another medicine.”

 

“alright, what d’ya want?” jackson helps mark into a sitting position and hands him his glasses. “i bought more soup.” a laugh. “honestly, soup is the only thing i know about taking care of someone sick.”

 

“that’s more than enough, honestly, that soup you bought in the afternoon was so fricking good,” remembers mark, eyes glassy as the taste comes back to his mind.

 

“i knew you’d like it,” grins jackson, “i knew it, i knew it.” he runs outside the bedroom to fetch the soup, giving mark time to wake up properly. his throat still feels awful, but his fever feels like it’s come down by a degree at least. the prospect of food brings a small smile to his lips, one that grows wider as jackson returns.

 

“you’re an angel,” declares mark, doing a little happy shoulder shimmy as jackson hands the bowl of soup to him. “you’re one of those angels who always messes up but eventually gets their person a happy ending.”

 

“soup is your happy ending?” jackson scrunches up his face like mark has failed him, like he was expecting more from him. “whatever floats your boat, i guess. and also,” he pauses to glare teasingly. “i don’t mess up at all, thank you very much.”

 

“i can name five different instances off the top of my head,” says mark between slurps. “like, remember that time when you thought it was a good idea to use jello to—”

 

“ideas with jello never end well, mark. i’m sure i’m not the only one who isn’t guilty here.” jackson pointedly stares at mark, who laughs.

 

“okay, what about the time you set me up on a blind date and didn’t even tell me who?” challenges mark. 

 

jackson freezes. “we’ve been over this. even perfect people make some mistakes. i was just excited,” he whines in protest.

 

“i think you need to go google the word perfect,  _ hon _ ,” chuckles mark, jackson faux-cringing at hearing his trademarked word ruined by mark’s voice.

 

jackson sticks his tongue out. “actually, fuck you. i did nothing but help you out. you fell in love with someone because i sent you to that damn amusement park, alright? even if ana didn’t make it.” jackson pauses to revel in the sight of mark squirming. 

 

“i’m not in  _ love _ . gross,” counters mark. jackson’s got that shit-eating grin on, the one he uses when he’s making assumptions about what’s going on in mark’s head when the only thoughts on mark’s mind are ways to kill the other and make it look like an accident. “also, guess what? ana knows that jinyoung isn’t my real boyfriend.”

 

jackson’s eyes comically widen. “the fuck?! how?”

 

“she overheard jinyoung explaining himself to shinhyeo—long story, i’m not elaborating so don’t ask—and also she said she’s been suspicious the whole time, so…” mark shoots jackson a frown. “honestly, none of this shit would’ve happened if you just hadn’t set me up on that date, okay?”

 

“well, i have two things to tell you, markie. one,” jackson holds up a finger. “thank every star of yours that i set you up on that date, we’re not going back to that, okay? fake boyfriend or not, the kid’s a real sweetheart, and you’re lucky to have met him.” mark wonders where the sudden defence came from, but that’s not even the point. jinyoung isn’t even his problem with this whole situation. but jackson’s not done yet. “not nearly as lucky as you are to have me, but that’s a given, am i right? i am. moving on, are you going to tell me what happened today? making progress or no?”

 

mark shifts a little so he’s leaning against the wall. jackson has his elbows on his thighs, his grinning, eager face resting in his palms. his enthusiasm is all over his face, clear as day. he truly is the definition of  _ the best friend _ , the one who’s way too invested in a romance that isn’t his. mark wants to roll his eyes. “it’s going okay, i guess. he chose me over shinhyeo and bunked classes for me so i guess it’s good?” he shrugs slightly, making his words more nonchalant than usual because he knows that jackson’s going to overreact anyway.

 

“hold. up. hold.  _ up. _ pressing rewind,” jumps jackson immediately. mark smiles. just as predicted. four years has given him a pretty amazing knowledge of jackson, and more than half the time, he doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “he  _ chose you over shinhyeo _ ? what the absolute fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

“it means that he had a choice, one that shinhyeo gave him—continue being my fake boyfriend or be shinhyeo’s actual boyfriend. and he chose me.” mark breaks out the little happy shoulder shimmy again, his words heavy with smugness. “and get this,” mark’s wheezing with giggles right now, fighting down coughs while alternating between three languages, while jackson watches on, eyes like coins. “i pretended like it wasn’t a big deal, like the whole thing was frankly amusing, but i swear i was about to explode, okay?”

 

jackson lets out a yell of mirth. “oh my god, for real? and he didn’t catch on with how much you were dying?”

 

“no, he’s fucking oblivious! i was like, what the actual fuck? he had the chance to be with his crush of a couple years and he chose me! not that i’m complaining.”

 

“of course you wouldn’t be!” exclaims jackson, shoving mark slightly before mark contorts his face in pain. he’s still weak (though this conversation has brought life back into him), but jackson isn’t going to apologize, instead laughing loudly all over again. “jinyoung is really a catch, in so many ways. he’s very… what’s the word? he’s the idiot everyone loves.” mark laughs softly, because jackson’s last sentence was korean with an american accent, and the rolling of the r’s made the whole feeling of the sentence hilarious.

 

“he is, yeah,” agrees mark, nodding. “and would you believe i yelled at him?”

 

“yelled at him for what, you fucker?” jackson frowns at the sudden admission. “did you apologize? yeah, you would’ve apologized. otherwise i wouldn’t have had to witness that soft departure scene. you two were acting like you’d never see each other again. i wish you’d frickin’ get married already. but again, why did you yell at him?”

 

“he wanted to wake me up and slapped me across the fucking face.”

 

“always nice to know you have a sweet and sensitive man.”

 

“he said he freaked out at how sick i looked.”

 

“understandable,” shrugs jackson. “i was kinda panicking the whole morning because you were acting like you were totally not that sick this morning, but i totally knew you were. i was going to skip my afternoon classes, but jinyoung took over. honestly, not a big deal because the prime priority was taking care of you, and i’m glad jinyoung came over if y’alls got to bond.” jackson has a smile stretched cheekily across his face, and he winks at the end of the sentence.

 

“you sound like my mom, honestly,” remarks mark, rolling his eyes. “she was always over-involved in all my relationships.” he pauses. “speaking of relationships, i told jinyoung about lucus.”

 

“oh my fucking god, how did he react?” mark had told jackson about lucus the day after he came out, and jackson had had to be put in a headlock three times to learn to stop mentioning his name. it was okay, though, because mark knew his fair share of jackson’s stories to bring up as well.

 

“he really didn’t…? like, he did but he didn’t? he just kinda… couldn’t say anything.” mark’s voice trails away into nothingness, and jackson rests his hand on mark’s forearm. “not in a bad way,” adds mark quickly. “he just didn’t know how to respond, you know what i mean?”

 

“yeah, i know what you mean. but hey, he didn’t look at you weird and start keeping a distance, right? victory,” says jackson simply, the chirpiness in his voice back.

 

“start keeping a distance? boy, i was literally sitting on his lap,” reveals mark, his voice raising slightly with the amount of elation he has while expressing that.

 

jackson makes a exclamation of disbelief and rapture. “get the fuck out!”

 

“no, you get the fuck out!”

 

“no,  _ you  _ get the fuck out!”

 

“no,  _ you  _ get the fuck out!”   
  


they’re weak with laughter now, and mark’s stomach hurts so much—so does his throat from all the coughing, but his stomach makes up for it. it’s the good kind of pain.

 

“don’t you get like, super affected by how affectionate he is? like, doesn’t it get you real annoyed because you like him so much but he’s just that way and it’s confusing and screws over your feelings?” asks jackson. mark has dropped a line about that every so often, going on about how jinyoung’s very being triggers some weird-ass feelings inside him that he isn’t used to and hasn’t felt in so long and how it’s so unfair because every single thing that jinyoung does just makes mark want to kiss him, and how it frustrates him because he can but at the same time, he can’t. jackson has taken to calling mark a pine tree, because he’s tall, has hair like long, artfully arranged pine needles, and pines all the time.

 

“about that. i found a way to—for lack of a better word because i really don’t know what other word to use—cope with that,” mark says seriously. the word cope is setting him off, making him want to laugh, because cope is a word used to deal with more difficult things than overly affectionate fake boyfriends that make you catch feelings for them. “have you heard of the phrase, ‘when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at will change’?”

 

“is this quoting coming from hanging out jinyoung for too long?” jackson knocks mark on the head, earning a hiss from the older. “i need my ignorant best friend back, please. he’s easier to deal with because i don’t have to think when he’s talking.”

 

“for the record, no, i did not get that from jinyoung. that used to be my parents’ go-to quote when they were trying to get us to change our attitude about something, and my dad brought it up again when i was talking to him a couple days ago, and i told him that i was good, but just having a bit of trouble dealing with something, so yeah.” mark points a finger accusingly at jackson. “and second of all, you don’t think when i’m talking?”

 

“half our conversations are non-existent because you’re never in the mood to talk, and the other half are either you telling me to stop being so hyper because i’m scaring someone or the other, or me telling you to get yourself out a bit more, or about topics that only people who are on crack talk about,” says jackson in all seriousness, before breaking into a smile. “but that’s the best part of this friendship, amirite?”

 

“true that,” agrees mark, bumping his fist with jackson’s. “you may be incompetent as a human being and very annoying to be around because you simply will not shut up, but that’s a pretty okay way to have it. “

 

“exactly. you’re an equally incompetent human being who’s very annoying to be around because you simply will not talk, but that’s a pretty okay way to have it.”

 

“we’re best friends, aren’t we?” grins mark.

 

jackson grins back. “the best of the best.”

 

“okay, back to the topic,” reminds mark. “so there’s a reason i brought up that quote. so all this time i’m getting hot and bothered because that boy is so fucking affectionate, it drives me nuts, right? well, i decided to… change the way i look at things.”

 

“what things are you looking at? should i be concerned?” cuts in jackson immediately with an eyebrow raised mockingly.

 

“for real?” mark kicks out at jackson, which results in him falling sideways onto his pillow, and he gives up on finding the stamina to get up. “listen to me, dickwad! i’m saying that instead of getting so triggered by everything, i’m just going to accept it. revel in it. reciprocate.”

 

“you should have just done that from the beginning. you know the number of movies when it’s such a big deal when one lead touches the other because they barely touch in the first place, but one of them is pining because they want to hug and kiss and be all touchy with the other?” mark shakes his head, and jackson lets out a huff of exasperation, but says regardless, “i didn’t expect you to. halfway through that i forgot what i was talking about. long sentences aren’t my thing.”

 

“what is your point, really?” wonders mark out loud, his tone taunting.

 

“my point is that your crush is already super touchy and stuff and you’re in a frickin’ fake boyfriendship, for pete’s sake! so enjoy that, why don’t you? you got a deal that people would write books about,” giggles jackson, lying down next to mark, their shoulders pressed against each other.

 

mark stares at the ceiling, a cheesy smile creeping across his face. “yeah, i got a pretty good deal.”

 

mark can see jackson nodding in his peripheral vision. “just watch, i’ll bet you anything that you’ll make him yours.”

 

mark rolls his eyes, happy with the support either way. “we’ll see.”

 

jackson hums with a hint of mischievousness. “i think we really shall.”

 

==

 

— **_19 MARCH_ **

**_22:57_ **

  
  


mark sleeps the entire day, not even getting up to eat, and by the time he wakes up, he feels better enough to go to work. he has a short argument with jackson, who tells him to take another night off, but mark waves him off, telling him that being at the café will help him get better anyway, and he’s out of the door before jackson can ask for the logic behind that statement.

 

junmyeon’s happy to have him back, although he, like jackson, says he’d have been fine if mark took another day off to fully recuperate. bambam greets him with a smile, which mark returns, though he’s internally frowning. bambam generally doesn’t work on tuesdays, and he’s looking a little lost in thought for someone normally so perky and friendly.

 

mark finds the opportunity to ask the younger about it during a unofficial break. “hey, bam, what’s got you down?”

 

“me? nothing, mark. i’m fine,” he replies, a little too quickly. he tries to cover up by smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

 

mark doesn’t ask again, because he doesn’t want to pry, but bambam comes up to him during the next break and blurts out, “i got into a fight with my mom.”

 

“oh,” replies mark softly. “why?”

 

bambam sucks in a breath. “i’m graduating this year, and even though i’ve done science for the last two years, it’s not something i see myself doing for the rest of my life. my mom disagrees. just the usual clash of opinions, that’s why i was a little down…”

 

“oh, okay.” mark pats bambam’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort. “don’t worry about it, man. everyone goes through it.”

 

“i know. i just didn’t want you to be concerned,” says bambam, smiling softer but more genuine.

 

“you have me to talk to if you want, okay?” nods mark, and bambam gives him a grateful thumb-up, saying, “i’m good, mark, but thanks. it means a lot.”

 

around eleven-thirty, yixing walks in. he’s wearing a dark hoodie with thin beige stripes, the hood over his head and tightened around his face. he almost looks like he’s trying not be recognized. instead of heading to the counter where junmyeon is stationed, he heads to the side where bambam and mark stand, the older of the two making a sandwich while the younger wipes plates.

 

“hey, bam,” breathes yixing, like he’s trying to not call attention to his presence. kunpimook does a double take at yixing’s appearance. “do you mind fetching me my house keys? i left them in the back.”

 

“sure, hyung,” says bambam immediately, heading to the back.

 

mark stares. something’s off, and he thinks he has a clue. he looks in junmyeon’s direction, but junmyeon isn’t even looking their way. yixing waits silently, fingers tapping on the marble counter, eyes trained downwards. and then he looks up, for a fleeting second, and mark can see him glare in junmyeon’s direction, a glare so filled with anger he can feel it burning him even though it isn’t even directed at him.

 

his heart jumps in his chest in concern and surprise. they’d been fine the last shift that mark had worked. yixing had dropped in for no reason, and stood and chatted with junmyeon for a near half an hour. but this is different, so different. junmyeon probably feels the daggers directed at his skin, because he turns, but yixing’s turned away by then. mark watches, as discreetly as possible, as junmyeon glowers back, a glare just as concentrated.

 

just then, bambam returns with the keys, and yixing takes them with a barely heard “thanks,” and turns on his heel, leaving without another word. mark’s chest is filled with some weird negative emotion that he doesn’t know the name of as he spots junmyeon staring blankly at the closed door through which yixing left nearly a minute ago.

 

mark approaches the older cautiously. “hyung?”

 

junmyeon seems to come back to earth, turning to mark before studying his face for a minute and deadpanning, “oh, you caught that.”

 

“uh, yeah,” admits mark uncertainly. he suddenly regrets coming up to junmyeon, because it’s very obvious that he is about to combust with anger, and that in itself scares the shit out of mark.

 

junmyeon shakes his head. “we’re not talking about that.”

 

mark nods silently.

 

“it’s not about who i’m talking to, mark, don’t take it personally,” adds junmyeon quickly. “it’s just… i can’t talk about it.”

 

“no, hyung, i get it,” says mark silently, excusing himself.

 

but he still has his suspicions, and unfortunately, they might be correct.

 

==

 

— **_20 MARCH_ **

**_17:56_ **

  
  


mark’s in the library again, three books open in front of him. he’s abandoned his previous approach of just trying to solve as many problems as he can and instead is now actually attempting to understand all the problems he’s doing. his brain hasn’t exploded in the last two hours, so he’s okay so far.

 

“mind if i sit here?” asks a voice, and mark looks up. it’s chae ana, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, one earphone resting on her shoulder and one in her ear, a set of books in her hands. mark tilts his head in a  _ go ahead  _ gesture, since no one else is at the table, and he isn’t expecting company anyway. jackson has fencing practice today.

 

she takes a seat silently, opening almost the same books as mark. her pen moves over her notebook at a much faster rate than mark’s, and mark can’t help watching her out of the corner of his eye. his method of problem solving is very different from hers. hers is methodical, and she puts every detail down on paper neatly, whereas mark just scribbles down the equations in a haphazard manner, still managing to solve them.

 

he decides to stop spying on her notebook, despite the fact that she doesn’t seem to care. for the sake of his own sanity, he shifts his attention back to his own notebook, realizing that he is in fact, a couple problems ahead of her. he perks up slightly, continuing to solve more problems. he can see ana’s gaze flick to his notebook, and catches how her posture slightly stiffens, her pen scribbling faster. the impromptu competition comes to an abrupt halt when mark gets stuck at one problem.

 

he writes out the equations several times over, and checks his diagram a few times. all his math seems to be right, so he can’t figure out what the problem is, his crossing out becoming steadily more annoyed. at least until he hears ana softly say, “you can’t solve it that way.”

 

it irks mark that ana’s been looking over at his—admittedly incorrect—calculations. “oh yeah?” he replies, trying not to sound too waspish. “then how do you solve it?”

 

ana leans over and adds one more value to his diagram, and suddenly mark sees his error, smacking himself in the forehead a little too loud. the library is really silent, so the noise carries, earning him a couple stares from other students. next to him, ana breathes out something that is somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. he mutters a quick, begrudging thank you and moves on to the next problem.

 

the second time ana makes a correction in mark’s book, he doesn’t know what the absolute  _ fuck  _ she’s talking about. she huffs impatiently, making mark glare at her, and she looks to him for permission to explain what she did, which he grudgingly gives. she explains the entire problem to him, and by the time she’s done, she’s given him enough extra information to solve the rest of the problems without a single hitch.

 

“you’re a really good teacher, ana-sshi,” admits mark albeit reluctantly once he moves on to the next chapter. ana looks up from her book, eyes round, surprised that he addressed her. it takes a couple seconds for her to register that he was complimenting her, and a small smile graces her lips for the most fleeting of seconds, before her gaze drops back to her books.

 

ana actually ends up helping him with a couple more problems, and at seven-thirty his phone buzzes, and it’s jackson texting him to meet him at the cafeteria for dinner. he glances to his side and sees ana putting her books into her bag, and he gathers his things as well. they stand up at the same time, and he catches her gaze, and she gives him a smile that seems almost a little sheepish, as well as a little abashed.

 

“look, if you want…” begins ana softly. “...i could help you out with the exam portions. i’m pretty okay with them, so if you need any help with that, i don’t mind.” her words are a little breathy and rushed, almost like she was working up the nerve for the last one and a half hours just to say that.

 

“you’re offering to help me out?” mark isn’t even sure he heard her right. and once he’s sure he did, he’s not sure about the offer. his self-confidence is acting up, reminding him that he is more than capable of getting through himself,  _ thank you very much _ , but the more rational part of him knows he could use the help.

 

ana nods slowly. mark finds it remarkable that in every area other than work, ana seems to have such a relaxed, flowing vibe, like she has all the time in the world. she adds, “but yeah, just an offer.”

 

mark inhales sharply, mulling over the pros and cons. when he has thoroughly convinced himself that there really are no cons, he nods back. “i’d like to take you up on that.”

 

“great.” another brief smile crosses her face. mark thinks her smiles are fascinating, so swift and instantaneous that you miss them if you happen to blink. “i think it’ll help both of us, yeah?”

 

“yeah,” agrees mark. “thanks, ana-sshi.”

 

she cocks an eyebrow. “call me ana. i won’t respond to ana-sshi, it sounds too formal coming from you.”

 

“alright. see you, ana,” he obliges as she nods and walks away, mark left staring after her. he thought she’d never even talk to him after what happened with the amusement park thing. she’d been so mad at jackson at first, asking him if he had any idea how much an idiot she’d have been made to look like had she shown up that day, but she’d had never gone and told anyone else—mark counted minji out of this category, since people, especially girls, had the habit of telling their best friends  _ everything _ —, which surprised mark. every so often during engineering drawing or thermodynamics, he’d catch her looking in his direction, often with a calculating expression, like mark was another problem, one she was trying to solve. she hadn’t given him that look all day, and that was probably because she’d figured her puzzle out, thanks to jinyoung.

 

mark’s phone buzzes again, this time with a string of angry emojis sent on behalf of jackson to express his impatience. he taps out an annoyed reply, then makes his way to join his annoying best friend.

 

==

 

— **_20 MARCH_ **

**_20:17_ **

 

“i need to pick something up, wanna come with?” asks jackson, stuffing his face with stew.

 

mark groans. generally going with jackson to pick something up also meant staying an extra half an hour and listening to him talk to the person he had to picks something up from. also, he’s way too full of stew to even form coherent sentences at the moment, and though going for a walk to work off some of the calories seems like a good idea, mark doubts his ability to get up at the moment.  “no, i think i’ll just go crash for a couple hours before work.”

 

jackson nods, scraping the remains of the stew from the bowl and licking his spoon front and back. mark doesn’t judge him. it’s very good stew. “i’m going to jaebum’s and jinyoung’s apartment,” drops jackson casually, picking up his tray.

 

“then why didn’t you just say so?” says mark, suddenly brightening and getting up to go join jackson, who goes to return his tray. 

 

jackson grimaces. “fucking selfish. you’ll only help out your best friend when your boyfriend’s involved. mean.”

 

mark hums obnoxiously. “says the one who didn’t even bother to text me that they weren’t going to show up since their crush suddenly challenged them to a fencing match. i learnt from the best, jacks.”

 

“for the record, that happened two years ago.”

 

“for the record, you still haven’t accepted that she actually beat you.”

 

jackson puts his foot out, causing mark to trip. mark laughs, punching jackson in the shoulder. jackson sulks for an entire ten seconds, until he starts excitedly chatting about what happened during practice that day. mark listens in silence, nodding at the right intervals just to let him know that he is listening, and jackson continues talking all the way until they come to a very familiar multi-storey building.

 

“say, what did you have to pick up?” enquires mark as he presses the elevator button, turning to face jackson and lean on the rough cement wall.

 

“youngjae took music psychology as one of his courses last term, and since i took that course this term, i asked him for his notes, and he had all of them, so yeah.” shrugs jackson.

 

mark nods, not bothering to ask why exactly they are there for youngjae when youngjae lives on campus, instead watching the bright red indicator slowly decrease from thirteen to one, smiling when jackson decides to imitate the  _ ding!  _ sound made by the elevator.

 

the one who opens the door is jaebum, who raises his eyebrows wordlessly. jackson smiles as bright as possible, but mark can detect the smallest degree of falseness to the smile. he stifles a laugh, remembering the conversation from a couple weeks ago when jackson admitted that he was the slightest bit scared of jaebum, because he was subtly intimidating. “hey!” grins jackson. “we just came to pick some notes up. youngjae’s there, right?”

 

“oh, yeah, sure. come in,” says jaebum nonchalantly, stepping aside to let the two of them in. he gives mark a half-smile, which mark returns.

 

youngjae, who’s lounging on the couch, gets up with a smile and retrieves the notes from his bag and hands them to jackson, who takes it with a blinding smile and a profuse set of thanks. jaebum comes over and stands next to mark, watching jackson and youngjae talk. there’s an unresolved tension in the air. as far as jinyoung has told mark, he told jaebum and youngjae that jackson and mark knew about their relationship, but they haven’t crossed paths at all after that. well, not with mark, at least, so he can’t help the awkwardness that rolls off him in uncomfortable waves. mark is generally that way around people, but the intensity of this awkwardness is noticeably higher, as he shrinks into his metaphorical shell.

 

jaebum looks nothing but amused, half-participating in youngjae’s and jackson’s conversation while looking at mark like he finds him vaguely entertaining. mark figures he can just wait for the conversation to end so they can leave, seeing as jinyoung isn’t home anyway, and mark feels like he’s on foreign grounds. but of course, trust jackson to call him out on it.

 

“hey mark, why’re you just standing there looking like a constipated turtle?”

 

“how would you know what a constipated turtle looks like, jackson?” shoots back mark immediately. youngjae laughs, and jackson looks at him like he had just insulted his whole family and all his ancestors. mark feels a little better.

 

“i was just saying, you’re looking more out of place than usual, i wonder why that is—” jackson is suddenly cut off by a screech that emanates from none of the four of them. “jaebum, you fucker!”

 

mark and jackson jump, jaebum looks like he expected it, and youngjae directs a quizzical look in jaebum’s direction, as though silently asking him what the hell he did now. then the bathroom door is flung open with an almighty bang and park jinyoung strides into view, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

 

he freezes, noticing that jaebum and youngjae aren’t the only ones occupying the living room. mark feels like his breath has been ripped out of his throat and thrown out the window. jinyoung’s hair is wet and hangs over his forehead in sharp points, nearly falling into his eyes. drops of water glisten on his chest ( _and_ _holy shit, is that a tattoo?_ ), his soft stomach exposed, and the towel is slung low enough that mark can see the jut of the ravenet’s hip bones. he didn’t mean to look that low. he just did.

 

jackson runs across the room and slams his hands over mark’s eyes with a painful  _ thwack _ , yelling, “p.g.-13! i repeat, p.g.-13!” jaebum cracks up at that, calmly observing jinyoung steadily turn redder and redder, until he finally turns on his heel and leaves the room as fast as he can.

 

youngjae narrows his eyes at jaebum. “what did you do.”

 

“nothing, nothing!” protests the older of the two defensively, flaring up a little at youngjae’s suspicion. a pause. youngjae tilts his head, and finally, jaebum blurts out, “okay, so maybe i used his towel to wipe the floor, and he always gets mad when he has to use the other towel. he’s peculiar that way.”

 

“i know he’s peculiar that way,” says youngjae steadily, following up with a sigh. “alright, he’s going to be freaking out. i’ll go calm him down.”

 

“should we maybe leave?” suggests jackson. mark’s face is really, really red, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from second-hand embarrassment of seeing jinyoung in a towel, or first-hand embarrassment from admitting to himself that he likes what he saw.

 

“no, i need mark hyung for backup.” youngjae pauses to smile at the mentioned before disappearing into the room that jinyoung shut himself into.

 

“i swear, he’s too nice,” remarks jaebum, shaking his head at the door with an affectionate roll of his eyes. “messing with jinyoung is too fun to not do.”

 

jackson grins at that. “you should try messing with mark, it’s hilarious. you know once, back during second year, i mixed in bright purple hair dye into his conditioner, and it didn’t wash off for three weeks?”

 

mark watches in horror as jackson and jaebum exchange stories, scoffing every time jackson speaks because he never seems to run out of things to say about mark. finally, youngjae exits the bedroom, smiling at jaebum clutching onto jackson’s shoulder because he’s laughing so hard at the story of how mark had to sleep next to a jello-covered jackson for three hours and didn’t even notice.

 

“he’s somewhat pacified,” announces youngjae, giving jaebum the stink eye for a short second.

 

“he’s not a baby,” whines jaebum in response, making jackson crack up.

 

catching mark staring (subtly, very subtly, because his longing didn’t show, he swears) at the door, youngjae smoothly suggests, “hey, mark hyung, why don’t you go talk to him? convince him that there’s no reason for him to be so embarrassed that he needs to dig a hole in the ground and bury himself in it.”

 

“huh? okay,” replies mark, a little too quickly, not missing the way jaebum mouths the word ‘whipped’ to jackson, who lets out a little hyena laugh in response. mark spares one more glare.

 

jinyoung’s curled up on his bed, his blanket drawn all the way until his eyes. he glances up at mark with a look that resembles a deer caught in headlights when the older walks in, turning to the wall with a simple “go away, i wanna die.”

 

mark sits on the edge of the bed, laughing lightly at that statement. “hello to you too, jinyoungie.” the lump of sheets does not move, so mark pokes at it indiscriminately, accompanying each poke with a “jinyoungie!”

 

“you don’t even say it right!” snaps jinyoung finally, sitting up and throwing the cover off himself roughly. he evidently dressed himself in a hurry, considering his shirt is both inside out and on backwards.

 

“i blame you for letting me say ‘jji-nyeong’ too many times for me to break out of the habit,” shrugs mark. “would you prefer it if i switched to ‘jin-young’?”

 

a moment’s pause. “yes.” mark raises his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips. “okay, no.” mark nods, satisfied. jinyoung turns away, bottom lip jutted out and sulky gaze fixed on the wall.

 

“honestly, you get on my case for lying down with wet hair, and you do the same thing?” chides mark, hand reaching out to push jinyoung’s hair out of his eyes. “hypocrisy at its finest, don’t you think? do i get to slap you now?”

 

his attempt to lighten the mood seems to work, for a corner of jinyoung’s mouth curls upwards as he very sweetly tells mark to fuck off. mark laughs, calculating every potential effect of his following question before he decides to ask it. “you have a tattoo?”

 

jinyoung freezes, flinching as he meets the half-disbelief, half-curiosity in mark’s stare. “yeah…?” he squeaks finally. mark waits, because he knows that jinyoung’s going to go on. “i mean, i don’t show it to anyone because it’s the result of a stupid dare and too many emotions. ha ha, who would’ve guessed, am i right?” insert self-deprecating eye-roll. “and i actually got it before i knew that if you got a permanent tattoo, you couldn’t give blood, and that’s awful, because i could be saving lives, but i got a tattoo and now, holy shit, are people dying because of me? because that’s—”

 

“okay, you’re rambling now,” cuts in mark, placing a hand on jinyoung’s shoulder to stop him. the younger has the tendency of doing that, and mark happens to find it entertaining, and the slightest bit endearing. “also, i’m pretty sure people with tattoos can give blood after a certain time period or something, so you shouldn’t really worry about that. maybe check out the rules.”

 

jinyoung smiles sheepishly, and mark reaches out to mess with his bangs a little more.

 

“i think it’s cool,” says mark after a short silence.

 

jinyoung’s eyebrows fly upwards. “for real?”

 

mark nods. “i mean, it sucks because you probably can’t give blood and stuff, but it’s cool.” an expected question hangs in the air, but mark can’t bring himself to voice it.

 

jinyoung’s face collapses into a smirk when he picks up on the unasked question. “you want to see it, don’t you?”

 

“i might want to know, yeah,” admits mark, his voice taking its turn to sound all squeaky.

 

jinyoung sighs, amusement and exasperation laced into it as he pulls the neck of his t-shirt down by a couple inches. tattooed an inch below his collarbone is the golden snitch, outlined in a deep black.

 

“is that from harry potter?” mark can’t stop the laugh that spills out of his mouth, because jinyoung is trash for the book series, and will never shut up about it, not if he reads every other book on the planet, not in a million years.

 

“yah, don’t judge me!” jinyoung starts off mumbling, but his volume progressively heightens through the defensive exclamation. he shoves mark, who’s still laughing, off the bed, but mark just continues chortling. “can you shut the fuck up?”

 

“nothing, you’re cute,” admits mark shamelessly, pulling himself back onto the bed and pinching jinyoung’s cheek, which feels warm between his fingertips.

 

“shut the fuck up,” repeats jinyoung.

 

mark rolls his eyes. “getting a little repetitive, aren’t you? i’m sure you know a few more words.” he’s basically holding jinyoung’s face in his hands, his thumb running over jinyoung’s lip, that is still showing signs of a cut, although it has scabbed over, his lip now looking pinched and painfully red. jinyoung flinches, and mark pulls his hand away.

 

“did you make yourself a timetable yet?” asks jinyoung abruptly. he’d given mark the suggestion when he’d gone over to take care of him a couple days ago. mark hasn’t always been one to follow schedules, but there’s always a first time, right? he shrugs, and jinyoung, with a sigh, tells him to go get the notebook that’s on his desk on the other side of the room.

 

as jinyoung asks him for details on almost every single hour of his life, mark can’t help but feel a little warm inside. it’s been a while since a person has stopped to care this much about him. with jackson it’s a given, even though jackson’s care is always accompanied by a barrage of insults. jinyoung’s softer, a little more sincere with his concern, even if it sometimes comes off as hovering. it’s with a small smile on his face that he watches jinyoung put down detail after detail on a roughly drawn table, along with occasional reinforcing of the fact that mark  _ must  _ follow the timetable, with a capital M.

 

fifteen minutes later, when jackson, jaebum and youngjae get a little suspicious, they peek into the room silently, finding mark sitting next to jinyoung, his chin resting on jinyoung’s shoulder, the younger scribbling out something in a notebook based on what mark’s telling him, the scene looking all peaceful and domestic, and so worth interrupting.

 

“one, two, three.”

 

“MARKNYEONG!” yell the three at the top of their voices.

 

all hell breaks loose, laughs loud and spilling out the apartment until their neighbor yells that she’s going to call the police.

 

==

 

**_—23 MARCH_ **

**_12:34_ **

  
  


“you know, call me a fricking poet, i just came up with the best sentence ever.”

 

jinyoung looks over at jaebum like he thinks the other is crazy from his post of the couch, and like all other times, he’s convinced he’s right this time. he puts the rice between his chopsticks into his mouth, lazily chewing before youngjae, who’s sitting on the floor next to jaebum, asks, “yeah? what’s that?”

 

“jae, don’t even ask,” sighs jinyoung tiredly. jaebum’s had way too many of these moments for him to count, complete with the manic gleam in his eyes and the blatant confidence in his (in jinyoung’s opinion) rather mediocre attempts at making his sentences complex and flowery.

 

“thank you, youngjae. screw you, jinyoung,” smiles jaebum pointedly. “okay, so get this. so you were making all of us concerned with your overworking and your excessive studying and your staying up all night and posting new chapters of your angst fanfic at four in the morning and stuff like that? remember that? okay, i’m taking that glare as a yes.” youngjae laughs. jaebum beams. jinyoung rolls his eyes. “so, i just realized. the best way to save you from yourself is to get you to save someone else.”

 

a dramatic pause. jinyoung and youngjae stare back at jaebum with identical blank stares. jaebum gets a little defensive, spluttering out a “what? that was good!”

 

“i’m not saving anyone else, nor do i need to be saved from myself,” says jinyoung, the tone of his words worn and exasperated.

 

_ someone’s lying~ _

_ what do you mean, saved from myself? _

_ overwork tendencies, that’s what he means. _

_ wow, thanks, i knew. _

_ he does have a point. _

_ i‘m not going to admit that. _

_ also, gross, i’m not saving anyone. _

_ that really does sound cheesy. _

_ am i not supposed to be a romantic? _

_ screw this. _

 

“right, because in the last less than one week, we have seen you actually sleeping consecutive full nights, finishing your work on time, and actually taking minutes to breathe and relax, which is new,” remarks jaebum, chewing on the ends of his chopsticks, making his words sound slightly distorted. “and all that, that we tried to get you to stop over weeks, miraculously reversed because now you’re watching over another person, also prone to overworking. i see you text him from time to time, and i know that look on your face when you’re wondering if he’s okay.”

 

“isn’t that a bit of stretch?” asks jinyoung boredly. he’s tired of this. he doesn’t know how many times he has to tell jaebum to shut up about this, but somehow, he just doesn’t seem to learn. and yet, there’s the slightest truth to what jaebum is saying, insinuations and implications aside. he has been doing better. all evidence of dark circles around his eyes has been erased, there’s a little more of a skip in his step, and yes, he gets a little paranoid about mark sometimes, but he doesn’t have a  _ look _ , jeezus. he tells jaebum only the last part of the sentence.

 

jaebum smirks. “if you say so.”

 

oh, yes, jinyoung says so. firmly. definitely. unequivocally.

 

==

 

**_—24 MARCH_ **

**_13:48_ **

  
  


mark sighs. “why are physicists so gory?” he wonders out loud. his voice is a little louder than it should be, earning him a reprimanding glare from both the girl sitting next to him and the students at the table next to theirs. he doesn’t apologize. it’s a lazy sunday afternoon and if they are losers who sitting inside the library and studying, they should have to deal with him, another loser who is sitting inside and studying, only he’s a little more vocal about how much he hates it. he’s generally not this vocal, but being cooped up and studying a subject he’s nearly gotten sick of is making him restless and louder than usual.

 

“what gives you that idea?” asks ana, amusement flickering in her eyes. her pen stops midways through a sketching out a diagram. mark discreetly tries to check which problem she’s on, but her hand covers the page before he can see.

 

“look at this.” mark thrusts the page in front of her, pointing to the recap paragraph on apparent weight. “‘when the cable of the lift is cut, the acceleration of the man is equal to the acceleration of the lift and his apparent weight is zero.’ why would someone try to cut the cable in the first place? and this”—he flips to the page mentioning collision—“remember when professor lee was teaching this? and he was talking about vehicle collisions? and he was talking about the velocities acquired, rather than the fact that the only thing to worry about during a collision is  _ making it out alive _ .” the exaggerated emphasis on the words brings a momentary smile to ana’s face.

 

“i suppose, if you’re into it enough, you’ll be thinking about with what speed you’re going to be thrown,” shrugs the girl. the groan leaving mark’s mouth makes her put down her pen. “take five?”

 

“oh, yes, please. my brain is fucking fried.” mark lets his head fall onto his arms, which are folded on the table in front of him. he feels a hand on his head, and he raises his eyes slightly in curiosity, because he didn’t know they were at physical contact comfort level yet, only to find ana looking back at him with suppressed amusement, both of her hands resting on the bottom of the page of her notebook in front of her. if he wasn’t completely doubly surprised, he’d have noticed that she was three problems ahead of him.

 

he lifts his head up completely as the fingers of the hand on his head run through his hair, and because there’s a familiarity to it, he knows who it is before he looks up at the person’s face. as expected, jinyoung smiles back at him, the usual charmingly teasing crinkles framing the corners of his eyes. “what’re you doing here?” asks mark, pleasantly surprised. ( _ pleasantly surprised _ is an understatement. his heart his doing a little happy dance, the way it always does when he sees jinyoung when isn’t expecting to.)

 

“i basically live here, you should know that,” responds jinyoung, then turns to ana. “hey, noona, how’s it going?” mark wonders how they got to noona-dongsaeng terms after just one meeting.

 

“your boyfriend’s a dolt, so really, it’s pretty tiring right now,” says ana goodnaturedly, a lilt to her voice, and mark rolls his eyes at her. he’s almost about to protest that he isn’t his boyfriend, but suddenly remembers that they’re in public, then shuts up quickly.

 

jinyoung laughs softly, like the flowing of a small brook in the midst of a forest with sunlight streaming through the trees. mark frowns at the thought, wondering when exactly being around jinyoung also transformed him into a poet. “i relate to your pain,” jinyoung smiles, making mark punch him in the ribs. “ouch, cut the abuse.”

 

“haw, haw, haw,” drawls mark, pursing his lips in mock-annoyance. “how did you happen to be in the physics section in the first place?” a small, hopeful part of mark’s brain hopes that jinyoung only came to this section to see him. the larger, rational part of him knows that he’s painfully wrong.

 

“i had to get a kinematics book for my monday class.”  _ and there it is _ . “but i also heard you from about five shelves over, because you were being so fucking loud.” the small, hopeful part of mark’s brain yells that jinyoung’s words count as a victory. at least a partial victory, right?  _ right? _ jinyoung’s hand hasn’t left his head either, and his fingers are tracing soft circles on mark’s scalp, making him want to drop off. the amount of studying has him worn out too, so he could really just let his head fall on the table and fall asleep.

 

“no, i wasn’t,” defends mark when he finally remembers that he has to say something in response. “i’m a very quiet person.”

 

“most of the time, yeah, but not when it comes to complaining about physicists, apparently,” remarks ana snidely, a corner of her mouth slightly curling upwards. mark counts. “that almost smile lasted about four seconds. a record.” ana tilts her head at him, looking rather piqued at the jab. mark just shrugs at the response, looking a little satisfied by the reaction. her smiles are so fleeting and so few that he can’t help but count how long they last when he actually can.

 

jinyoung lets his hand drop to his side, smiling at the both the people at the table in front of him, and mark can sense an angle of awkwardness in it. mark guesses that jinyoung is probably thinking about how he should say something and leave now, as confirmed by the latter’s subsequent statement, “i think i’ll get going now.”

 

“yah,” whisper-calls mark as jinyoung begins walking away. jinyoung turns, eyebrows raised questioningly. “i’ll meet you in about two hours?” mark tries lamely. relaxing around four o’clock is part of mark’s sunday schedule, which jinyoung wrote for him, so he is technically informed already, but mark had felt like he just had to say  _ something _ .

 

jinyoung doesn’t seem to realize how stupid mark sounded to himself right then, because he nods, his smile turning a little brighter, and then walks away. mark doesn’t realize that he’s staring after him until he turns back to ana and she says, “wow, seven seconds without blinking. a record.” she’s turning the pen idly in between her fingers, her attention fixated on the way she’s spinning it. she puts it down, noticing mark looking in her direction. “you two pull off the whole f.b. thing really well.”

 

f.b., as in fake boyfriend. mark catches it immediately. he simply shrugs his shoulder, playing it off like he thinks it’s something easy. he really doesn’t want to talk about that, and yet, he wants to talk about that. it’s an unexplainable feeling of wanting to talk about something while clearly knowing that if you open your mouth about it, you will regret it later.

 

“isn’t it weird though? having to pretend to have feelings for someone you don’t have feelings for?” ana goes on, not really meeting mark’s eyes, as though she’s not sure herself whether to ask the question. her voice is quieter than usual, which is a huge deal, because her voice is already pretty quiet. “i mean, most fake relationships either end up getting exposed or just transform into something real…” mark’s breath catches in his throat at this point. when he’s talking to jackson, jackson doesn’t talk about the fake relationship aspect of it. and ana, being at least ten times smarter than jackson (at least on this subject), scares the absolute shit out of mark. “...yet you two seem to carry it off so naturally. how do you do it?”

 

“good acting, i guess,” mumbles mark nonchalantly. he knows that every atom in him is lying, because he’s not acting. that’s the only reason this whole thing hasn’t completely gone to bust is because mark simply hasn’t been acting. jinyoung, on the other hand, is a really good actor, at least in front of people who don’t know him, and that in itself hits a bit of a sore spot for mark.

 

“do you think you could have feelings for him, though? hypothetically speaking, of course.” presses ana, her tone becoming a little more confident, a hint of curiosity threading through her words.

 

mark takes a couple seconds before answering. “sure, i guess. i mean, he is  _ really  _ sweet and funny and good looking, so—” he realizes how emphatic he sounded when saying that, so he reels himself back in with a small cough to fake clearing his throat. “hypothetically speaking, of course.”

 

“hypothetically speaking, you’d really like him,” deadpans ana, finally looking him straight in the eye. mark notices that her eyes are really dark, almost as though her pupils have simply blended in with her irises.

 

“hypothetically speaking, no, i don’t,” mutters mark defensively. a pause. “but continuing on the same hypothesis, what would make you think so?”

 

“female intuition,” replies ana plainly, a smile flickering across her face. “and you also have total heart eyes for him. hypothetical ones, of course.” her smile turns a little melancholic. “believe me, you won’t know when it’s directed at you, but you will definitely recognize it in a another person’s eyes.” that sounds a little enigmatic, but mark doesn’t bother trying to decode it.

 

mark shrugs. hypothetical or not, he knows she’s right.

 

when the silence crosses the ten-second mark and mark doesn’t make any attempt at a rebuttal, ana suggests, “back to work?” and mark just nods. fast-forward to a couple hours later, when mark rubs his eyes tiredly, flinging his glasses blindly across the table, earning a panicked noise from ana as they almost fall off the table. “can we quit for today?” groans mark, fatigue heavy in his voice.

 

“no, but we can break for an hour or two,” says ana firmly. that’s one of the drawbacks of having ana as your tutor—she’ll never go easy on you. mark bears with it because he knows he won’t regret it later.

 

“or two. or two sounds good,” nods mark furiously, reaching for his glasses blindly and failing to pick them up before ana decides to be nice and hand them to him. he packs up his stuff, telling ana he’ll meet her back here in two hours and bolting so fast he can just hear the beginnings of a soft laugh following after him. he stops on the ground floor, wondering if jinyoung would still be there.

 

he decides to check the classics section, because of something jinyoung mentioned yesterday about his renewed obsession with the genre (and the following argument that resulted when mark said classics were duller than dishwater which has been contaminated and mixed in with drying paint with a dash of studying engineering drawing), but fails to find him there. he’s taking out his phone to text jinyoung when a thought strikes him, and he turns on his heel to make his way to the recreational literature section, and as expected, he finds jinyoung at a table at the window (jinyoung’s table actually, because no one else sits there because it’s too secluded), pretty much cut off from the rest of the library by a shelf, nose buried in the fifth harry potter book.

 

“hey, you,” smiles mark, whacking the back of jinyoung’s head in greeting. 

 

jinyoung blinks a couple times as though coming out a trance, and then smiles back. “sorry, kinda lost myself there.” there being the book, and mark rolls his eyes, because that’s what jinyoung always says when he’s interrupted while reading a book. well, that or ‘fuck off and leave me alone’ depending on what kind of book it is and what kind of mood he’s in.

 

“i thought you were on a classic phase?” asks mark, as he walks with jinyoung to put the book back on its shelf.

 

“i was… but i just reading emma, by jane austen. have you read that?—you know what, forget i asked.” mark shoves jinyoung’s shoulder in response as the younger goes on, “yeah, so that was a tragedy of epic proportions. not the story, but the book itself. it’s just four hundred pages of nothing happening before happily ever after.” jinyoung relaxes the restriction on the volume of his voice once they step outside the library building. “like what the fuck? it’s so overrated, i can’t even find words to elucidate on how much of a spectacular waste of my time that was. and everyone else is like, ‘oh my god, it is the most perfect book i have read’, blah, blah, blah.” he goes on about that for a couple more minutes before releasing a apologetic laugh at noticing the amused way that mark’s watching his passionate rant. “never mind me, how’s your studying going?”

 

“awfully. pathetically. terribly. abysmally,” rattles off mark immediately, emulating jinyoung’s general habit of putting out way too many synonyms for emphasis. jinyoung catches it, bumping his hip against mark’s.

 

“abysmally. that’s new,” teases jinyoung.

 

“yeah, that’s the only reason i hang out with you. to help my vocabulary,” replies mark, letting out an exclamation of pain when jinyoung hits his shoulder. “see? you’re abusive. what a fucking awful fake boyfriend.”

 

“like you’re any better,” hums jinyoung, his words sickly sweet and dripping of sarcasm. his tone abruptly changes, turning serious, his gaze getting sharper. “but are you on track? will you get everything done before the exam?”

 

mark knows where the change of tone comes from, and he can’t help but feel a little bad. he told jinyoung a couple days ago about the consequences of failing the exam, in casual conversation. he’d blurted it out, not completely, and waffled on for a few more sentences on how it wasn’t as bad as it seemed but also was as bad as it seemed but of course you won’t get it and i don’t expect you to get it and jinyoung why are shutting my mouth what—

 

_ “so basically, the moral of your extreme beating around the bush session is that, if you fail, you go back to l.a.?” _

 

_ “...” _

 

_ “hyung.” _

 

_ “yeah, that’s about it.” _

 

_ “okay. well, if you want to stay, work harder then.” _

 

jinyoung had seemed so nonchalant back when mark told him. he hadn’t even looked up completely from the book he was reading, although as far as mark was concerned, he could vouch that jinyoung’s eyes had stopped moving across the page and stayed frozen for quite a few minutes. mark had had to dig his nails into his palms to prevent his thoughts from spilling out, from blurting out that he’s going to do all he can because he wants to stay so badly. so, so badly.

 

“i think so,” says mark tentatively. jinyoung isn’t looking at him when he asks, “you sure?”

 

mark reaches out to take jinyoung’s hand, feeling like breathing doesn’t become so difficult once their fingers are intertwined. and even if he does have to leave for l.a.… no, he won’t think about that. he really can’t. jinyoung squeezes his hand, and somehow, mark feels like he’s not the only one trying to shut down his pessimistic side. “pretty sure. don’t worry about it.”

 

“i’m not worrying,” replies jinyoung uselessly, because his tone clearly points to the contrary. a few seconds of silence fall between them, only filled by mark’s distracted off-tune humming. “what’s your greatest fear?” asks jinyoung out of the blue. mark isn’t even surprised at the abrupt query, having become accustomed to the younger’s random questions. one small question is often the trigger to an hour long conversation (at least) and mark finds them rather enjoyable because they ease his mind, even when they’re arguing over which item of sustenance they’d rather save during an apocalypse—coffee or ramyeon. jinyoung argued for coffee because it would keep you alive and running, but mark said that if you’re going to die anyway, you might as well do so with a happy, full stomach.

 

“i don’t actually have a greatest fear…?” shrugs mark after pondering for a few seconds. they’ve reached the college gates and though neither of them have said it, they both know they’re headed to get ice cream. mark could really do with ice cream right now. “probably snakes, i think. my brother joey had a pet snake for a couple years. the thing freaked me out. i always thought it’d escape that fricking glass box at night and strangle me in my sleep.” mark’s begun letting his guard down more and more when it comes to talking about things that happened before he came to south korea. the talk about lucus really broke through a mental wall of his.

 

“okay, so you’ve been ridiculously graphic all your life,” nods jinyoung in faux understanding. mark shoots him a look. what he calls a ‘colorful imagination’, jinyoung calls ‘gory’, but whatever, he doesn’t understand. “that explains it as a simple manufacturing defect, then.”

 

mark rolls his eyes. “what about you?”

 

“the greatest fear i ever had was being ordinary.” the words roll off his tongue like he’s admitted the fact to himself about a million times.

 

“knew it’d be something crazily poetic,” remarks mark teasingly. “but why? more importantly, you said ‘had’, so what’s your current greatest fear?”

 

“i was afraid of being just another face in the crowd. i wanted people to know me. i wanted to make a difference.” a pause. “i wanted to be an actor. then i wanted to be an idol.” his words hint at shame, at sheepishness. “i couldn’t even stand the thought of being just another person, a life of clichés.”

 

mark actually starts laughing at this point. “you, park jinyoung, the biggest sucker for clichés that i have ever had the fortune—or misfortune—of meeting, are telling me that you hated clichés?”

 

“you have no clue,” continues jinyoung, with a dramatic emphasis on his words. “i aspired to be exceptional. an unprecedented occurrence of near faultlessness, as unimaginable as that sounds. i wanted to be the best… at everything. and i wanted people to know. i wanted people to look at me and go, ‘hey, i know you, you’re park jinyoung’.”

 

“weren’t you first in class or something? jaebum keep going to about your ultimate gary stu-ness in school and all that jazz.” mark internally cringes at having used a gary stu reference, having some knowledge about that term only because his older sister kept him way too updated during her fanfiction writing phases when she was a teenager, when he barely came up to her shoulder.

 

“i was first in class, but not when jiyol was around, but of course, jaebum would never talk about that. no, i was a consistent second, and incidentally, i would’ve won the head boy election in a landslide had i not come out during senior year.” jinyoung’s words, though phrased to sound first egoistic and then resentful, come across as anything but those. he simply states it like they’re facts, like they matter nothing more, nothing less than if he had just stated what day of the week it is. “besides, i thought academics didn’t matter that much. i’d have loved to be good at art, or singing, or something like that. but i never had the time or talent.” a bitter laugh. “but i came to realize something after jiyol left.”

 

“yeah?” mark gives jinyoung time to form sentences as he places their order for two chocolate ice creams, paying since it’s his turn.

 

“yeah, it’s that being loved deeply is better than being loved widely… did i just steal a line from the fault in our stars? kinda. my point is that the deep difference that you make in the lives of people around you matter so much make a much bigger difference than making a wider and shallower impact that you can make on a lot of people,” states jinyoung, the typical philosophical vibe entering his words as they leave his mouth.

 

mark’s eyebrows draw together, forming a small crease between them. “mhmm, but get this. idols make such a huge difference in the lives of their fans. some people have given their idols credit for helping them get over depression and anxiety. sometimes idols make a huge difference without intending to. idols are idols for their art, whether it’s singing, dancing, acting, modeling… you get what i’m saying. they don’t do it for the difference they’re making.”

 

“they do it for the fame. i’m talking about fame here too,” adds jinyoung, as they collect their ice creams and make their way to the adjacent park, where they take a seat on one of the benches. “fame is something that everyone desires, not everyone acquires, and the ones who do get it regret it.”

 

“i suppose there is a price to pay,” agrees mark, taking a bite out of his ice cream. “you just reminded me of a song, actually.”

 

“which one?” jinyoung’s eyebrows fly upwards. the mention of music always perks him up, as though he is unskilled at discovering good songs himself, the recommendations he’s gotten are always songs he’s enjoyed. mark found this out back during the first day they met, when it came up in conversation when ‘shape of you’ came on the speakers and jinyoung couldn’t identify the song.

 

“it’s called ‘somebody to you’ by the vamps and demi lovato. my sister, the oldest one, she used to play it so many times that every single person in my house got really sick of it, but now that we’re talking about this, this just reminds me of the lyrics to the song.” he hums a couple notes under his breath, and yup, he still remembers the tune.

 

“cool,” says jinyoung obligingly, his voice a little far away. his gaze is set on the trees lining the park. being the beginning of spring, the flowers are just beginning to form buds, but some have started blooming, the cherry blossom tree at the far end already in full bloom. the blend of different pink, red and purple hues, set against the rather grey atmosphere gives off a rather poetic, romantic vibe. mark thinks how nice it’d be if they were actually on a date right now. wishful thinking has always been one of his talents.

 

a strong chill breeze blows through the park, causing mark to shiver, and that in turn inducing jinyoung to put his arm around mark and pull him closer. as mark leans against jinyoung, the ice cream freezing his fingers, but still not discarded, he realizes that it’s moments like these that he’d would like to memorize, to file away for posterity. it’s moments like these that mark doesn’t want to go through the pain of missing, or regretting.

 

“hey,” mark says softly, tilting his head up, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “i’m going to make sure i fucking ace that exam.”

 

jinyoung doesn’t look directly at him, but more at the sky, saying in the most stoic voice he can manage, “please.”

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can already tell that alfentanil is going to come for me in the comments for messing sulay up as well I SWEAR IM NOT A SADIST  
> also fun fact: remember jinyoung's and jiyol's first interaction from last chapter? that was how i met my best friend :D (lia don't come at me in the comments as well)
> 
> Question of the Chapter: what do you think happened with sulay? also, what effects do you think mark's change in mindset will cause?  
> Writer's Q: how did you start reading this story? is it anything at all like what you expected? :)


	17. Chapter 17

**_—25 MARCH_ **

**_12:34_ **

  


“you guys free this thursday?”

 

it’s lunch break on monday, and jackson and mark have joined jaebum, youngjae and jinyoung at cafetaria five, in a fresh turn of events that resulted in the new arrangement last wednesday. it was actually jackson’s idea, he made sure to mention that to jinyoung. not that jinyoung actually minds, for now he has all his friends sitting together at one table. (the admission of that fact makes him come across of a little more socially challenged than he actually is.) things aren’t uncomfortable between jackson, jaebum and youngjae since jackson knows about 2jae. sometimes he’ll slip in a sly joke during their conversation, and jaebum will choke on his food, but those are during the rare moments when jackson decides not to make jokes about mark and jinyoung.

 

jinyoung’s slowly growing into the idea of hanging out with all four of them at once. he doesn’t feel attacked and uncomfortable at having to deal with four very different people now. mark, on the other hand, mostly stays quiet during the lunch meetings, except when he’s addressed, but jackson more than covers for him. jaebum is actually really friendly with jackson, and jinyoung suspected at the beginning that it was due to guilt, but turns out that they actually do tend to agree with each other some things, like how star wars is the greatest series ever and how korean food is the best. youngjae is just himself, and that’s enough for him to get along just fine with everyone else.

 

jackson’s question hangs in the air, with jinyoung, jaebum and youngjae staring back at him. “i think i might be,” nods jinyoung slowly. “why?”

 

“it’s his birthday,” answers mark, directing a small smile at jackson and punching him on the shoulder playfully.

 

jinyoung’s eyes widen. “really?” he confirms, breaking into a huge smile. jinyoung has loved birthdays since forever. (except for one particular one, but oh well.) he loves celebrating birthdays, making people happy on their birthdays. his birthday never matters that much to him. he always derived the largest amount of satisfaction from making someone else’s birthday a little brighter.

 

“yeah,” says jackson excitedly, shimmying his shoulders as a little happy dance. “i’ve been counting down for the last three hundred and sixty-five days.”

 

“he’s not kidding,” adds mark, a tinge of exasperation to his words as he bites into his sandwich. “a few months ago, he was all like, ‘only one hundred and thirteen days until my birthday!’” the rest of the table chortles at this, and jackson doesn’t even bother to defend himself, instead quipping, “i’ve done it since i was ten, so why break the tradition?”

 

“maybe because it was a habit you picked up at the age of ten,” suggests jaebum. quite sensibly, in jinyoung’s opinion, had he not found out ages ago (a couple weeks ago, tops) that jackson’s actions in general are questionable—from his organic obsession to his habit of waltzing around the dorm either shirtless or pantsless (jinyoung’s eyeballs had been assaulted with the sight more than once—actually scratch assaulted and make that blessed, because _damn_ , did jackson work out)—and should simply be signed off as a jackson™ thing.

 

“we’re going dancing, would you guys like to join?” invites jackson, leaning forward in hope of an affirmative answer. “the two-day sports meet starts on friday anyway, so we don’t have classes that day anyway.”

 

“ah, the sports meet, right. sorry, jackson, i have practice.” jinyoung knows how much jaebum hates dancing (despite working at a club), and so he admires that jaebum actually had the decency to sound disheartened about not being able to join. but then again, the practice part wasn’t a fib either, since jaebum is on the football team, and they’ll be training for their match against the team from the gwangju university of arts, which takes place on saturday.

 

“and i have to help minseun out at the pet store, she’s been bugging me for weeks. i’m so sorry, jackson,” follows up youngjae, voice soft and heavy with apology. jinyoung definitely knows that isn’t a lie. youngjae’s been complaining lately about how he barely sees his best friend anymore since she’s in a different college, and he’s been talking about their plans to meet up at her workplace since the day they made them.

 

“well, that’s all right,” says jackson light-heartedly, though jinyoung did catch the slight fall of his smile. “jinyoung, what about you?” the cautious tone gives away the fact that jackson is trying to stuff down his expectations, and jinyoung’s motherly side comes out, not ready to disappoint.

 

“sure, why not?” shrugs jinyoung. he turns to mark who’s sitting opposite to him and next to jackson—for confirmation or reaction, he knows not—, who simply smiles brightly at him. jinyoung nods once more, affirming his plan, giving it an aura of concrete finality. he can basically see jackson light up.

 

“really? it’s going to be _great_ , trust me!” chirps jackson happily, and jinyoung feels happy too, the cheerfulness being contagious. “we’re going to have the best time, jinyoung, i swear. and it’ll be awesome because the rest of the guys have been dying to properly meet you and stuff, so…” jackson does the shimmy again because words fail him.

 

jinyoung nods along to his words, stopping himself from freezing when jackson mentions meeting their friends. he isn’t good at socializing. at all. his social skills are at level zero. basically null. nada. prone to being questioned on whether his social skills exist or not in the first place. he doesn’t know exactly why he turns to mark, but he does, and mark might have caught the glint of panic in his eyes, because he gives him a small reassuring nod, one that seems to telling jinyoung that he’s going to be fine.

 

the trepidation doesn’t miraculously disappear, but it does subside substantially, and jinyoung feels like his chest isn’t all that tight anymore.

 

==

 

**_—27 MARCH_ **

**_23:55_ **

  


mark’s running like a crazy person through the college campus, the alarm in his pocket buzzing furiously. it’s five minutes until his best friend’s birthday, and if he hadn’t miscalculated the time it’d take him to walk back, he wouldn’t be feeling like his chest was being cut open right now. he reaches the dorm, nearly jamming the button of the elevator as he presses it over and over again, as though doing that will make the elevator arrive any faster.

 

he’s always wished jackson first, and he doesn't intend for this year to be any different, so it’s with determination coursing through his  veins does he run up six flights of stairs, hands fumbling with the dorm key before he shoves it roughly into the lock and opens the door, noticing the light in the living room still on.

 

jackson’s asleep on the couch, mouth wide open, earphones in, his thermodynamics book open and resting over his chest. his phone must’ve fallen off at some point, because it rests on the floor, face down and forgotten. mark pumps a silent fist in the air, setting down the box in his hand. he takes a moment to catch his breath, bracing his hand on the wall to steady himself. finally, wiping away the sweat on his brow with his sleeve, mark walks over to the couch, ready to give jackson a proper birthday wake-up greeting.

 

placing his hand on jackson’s shoulder, mark pauses for a moment to smile at his sleeping best friend before shaking his shoulder roughly, singing the english happy birthday song really loudly and really off-key. jackson jumps awake, blinking into the bright light. (that _he_ left on, by the way. mark keeps the blame for things he’s done, and the rest is on everyone else. that’s all there is to it.) he takes a few minutes to adjust to his state that he thinks is called _being awake_ as mark sings the happy birthday song on repeat while he fetches yet another box that he hid in the bedroom.

 

once jackson is smiling hugely, mark takes it as a sign that the younger has fully woken up. “i, uh, bought you this. happy birthday, jacks,” says mark, thrusting the box in his hand with a huge grin on his face, attempting to disguise his apprehension. he’s never been good with gifts, so there’s always that feeling of nervousness when he’s giving someone their gist.

 

jackson rips off a piece of paper stuck on top, reading the scrawled english words on it. “happy birthday to my best bro, j-flawless.” he places a hand to his heart, blinking away fake tears. “i’m touched,” he pretends to blubber.

 

“you drama queen. would you open the box already?” but there’s no bite to mark’s words, smoothened out and made to shine by the smile on his face.

 

jackson lets out a celebratory yell as he opens the box, even though mark knows he hasn’t yet registered what’s in it. then the younger pulls out a new snapback, with his last name emblazoned across it in metallic bold letters. jackson has had a obsession with snapbacks for the longest time, and even has a section of their closet dedicated to them. “markiepooh, is this custom-made?” he gushes, putting it on immediately. mark nods in affirmation, and jackson yells again, eyes shining.

 

“i also got those overpriced black forest pastries that you love so much,” says mark, pointing to the other box sitting on the nearby desk which contains something that jackson has a spectacular weakness for, despite preaching his message of the pros involved with sticking to an organic diet. mark can’t stand the pastries himself, and march 28th is the one day of the year that mark will pull out his money to willingly purchase them.

 

if it’s possible for jackson to light up even more, he does, leaping up from the couch and catching mark around the waist. he spins the older around, their laughter echoing the air, and mark is half-worrying about how daehyun from next door is probably going to ring up the police with all the combined hollering. “bitch, i could kiss you right now!” declares jackson emphatically, before doing just that, pressing a sloppy kiss to mark’s cheek before releasing him, laughing hysterically.

 

mark shoves jackson roughly, pretending to retch violently and swiping his sleeve against his cheek to attempt to wipe away all the stale spit that jackson has smeared in his disgustingly wet kiss. jackson just looks smug, joking in complacent tones, “the intention was for it to be gross.”

 

mark shudders, pretending to glower, switching the language of conversation from english to mandarin. “do not do that again. that was revolting.” jackson responds with a “please, hon, you’re one of the luckiest people in the world.” he walks over to the box of pastries. “and black forest pastries are not overpriced, screw you.”

 

mark rolls his eyes. “if one pastry boasts of paper-thin shavings of chocolate coupled with the softest of cream and chocolate cake that will melt in your mouth and uses that as an excuse to cost as much as i spend on coffee for a month, then _yes_ , they are highly overpriced.”

 

“did you memorize the description or something?” asks jackson amusedly, not-so-delicately ripping the tape sealing the pastry box and digging into a cake with all the gusto of someone who’s been deprived of food for a long time.

 

“i was standing in line for a long time. i’m pretty sure junmyeon hates me now because i walked into work late with a box of cakes from another bakery,” remarks mark, swiping his finger across the icing of one of the pastries and applying the cream on jackson’s cheek. jackson tries to cry out in protest, almost choking on the cake filling his mouth. “gross. shut your mouth, you caveman.”

 

jackson breaks into a teasing grin, hooking an arm around mark’s neck and singing (once he’s swallowed the food in his mouth), “but you loooove me.”

 

mark ruffles his hair affectionately. “damn right, asshole. treasure it.”

 

==

 

**_—28 MARCH  
_ **

**_20:15_ **

  


_breathe in, breathe out._

 

jinyoung does not approve of his own outfit choice. actually speaking, he did approve of it, all the way until he found himself standing outside casa del markson, and that's when the second thoughts started to make their appearances. now he’s not too sure.

 

what had jaebum said? _just do you._ hmph. easy for him to say. jaebum always looked effortlessly cool even with his lacklustre dressing style.

 

jinyoung, on the other hand, simply did not. his clothes screamed _i have no social life and i prefer the company of books than heathens like you._ and there was nothing wrong with that. absolutely nothing. it's just that the fact remained that that particular style did not fit a party vibe. like, _at all._ jinyoung hasn’t been invited to many parties. he did get invited to a few at first, but he just developed a serious allergy to the excess of drunk, gropey people, the loud noises and the very concept of socializing, so he just stopped altogether.

 

so as jinyoung reassesses his outfit for the nth time, he takes a deep breath, tells his excessive thoughts to shut the fuck up, and rings the doorbell.

 

when mark opens the door, that's when jinyoung _really_ starts hating his own outfit. mark is dressed in a flowy navy blue silk button-down—which jinyoung deduces that he even possesses in the first place courtesy to jackson's employee benefits—coupled with black skinny jeans, and jinyoung wanted to bury himself in a hole and die.

 

how is it possible for a human being that jinyoung knows to look that attractive? how is it possible for someone who is actually jinyoung’s fake boyfriend to look that attractive? mark’s outfit hugs him in the all the right places, and is that eyeliner jinyoung spies? well, he’s certainly not complaining.

 

mark pauses a second to look jinyoung up and down before giving him a teasing smile, the kind that your friends give you when you're making a bad decision but they're getting wholesome entertainment out of it. “you're wearing… that?”

 

_ugh, i knew i should've raided jaebum's closet._

_shut the fuck up. your outfit isn't that bad._

_it is awful. can you not read his face? it's obvious!_

_why are you even trying to impress him in the first place?_

_i’m not—_

 

“yeah, what's wrong with that?” jinyoung attempts to sound nonchalant, but it sounds more defensive, his fist curling around the strap of his backpack.

 

“nothing. if you're on your way to a business meeting,” says mark with a barely stifled laugh. “you went with this?”

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes. “yeah, i did. i have an overwhelming respect for business. i have pictures of them up in my bedroom. instead of porn, i watch videos of businessmen making deals.” maybe his defences aren’t the best when it comes to defending his clothes. Especially when being questioned by people who _actually_ know how to choose their clothes. also, businessmen dealmaking instead of porn? for real?

 

“too much information,” cringes mark. “and while your hero-worship may be alright to you, the people you're going to meet will eat you alive for it. and because i care for you enough to not want to watch you bring eaten alive by some cannibalistic sociopaths, i’m telling you straight out that you need to change.”

 

jinyoung scoffs in disbelief, the snarky wheels in his head turning the way they always do when he's losing an argument. he doesn’t want to change, because changing would mean admitting to his inner voices that he has broken his promise to himself to be proud of his ridiculous outfit even after knowing that it’s ridiculous. “‘cannibalistic sociopaths’. big words, mark tuan. are you quite alright today?”

 

mark giggles, making way as jinyoung walks through the door. “no, but when am i ever?” he’s bubblier than usual today. It’s kinda cute.

 

“good question.” jinyoung dumps his bag in a corner and spreads his arms in a question. “what am i supposed to wear? i don't want to go back to my apartment, and either way, i doubt there's anything there that would be any better than this outfit.”

 

“i might have an idea,” says mark, with an air of mystery, stroking his non-existent beard. what a dork. jinyoung can't help but smile.

 

it takes five attempts to finally find the right outfit (“you must be kidding me, i am _not_ wearing that!”, “and why not?”, “because i’d look like a guy who gets stood up a lot!”, “how does a person who gets stood up a lot even _look?_ ”, “like that, dammit!”) but when jinyoung’s dressed in a wide-necked full-sleeved white tee of mark’s with wide black horizontal stripes that just shows the beginnings of his tattoo, coupled with a pair of ripped jeans that jinyoung wore once like, a million years ago (a couple weeks ago?), they’re both finally satisfied.

 

“you look...better,” remarks mark as jinyoung blinks at himself in the mirror.

 

“bitch, please, i look fabulous,” jokes jinyoung, sweeping his jet-black aside so that his forehead shows. he does look good in this outfit. he doesn’t look like park jinyoung, nerd supreme. he looks like a different version of himself. being put in clothes he doesn’t usually wear has given him a persona that he doesn’t really associate with himself, but his reflection isn’t lying.

 

“sure you do. and who do you have to thank for that?” mark points to himself very obviously, while jinyoung blatantly ignores him.

 

the door slams, meaning that jackson is back from work. jinyoung rummages in his bag for a brief moment before jackson enters the room, then straightens up with a bright “happy birthday!” as jackson lets out a little happy yell and runs to jinyoung, throwing his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. jinyoung and jackson are both hoes for hugs, so their hug lasts a long while, with the two of them rocking from side to side and laughing.

 

“what’d you get me?” grins jackson, as jinyoung hands him his gift. jackson shakes the box slightly, but sensing no movement inside, rips the wrapping paper open.

 

“jinyoung...” he gushes, “how’d you know i liked panic! at the disco?”

 

“you mentioned once upon a million years ago, i think,” smiles jinyoung, who has the remarkable habit of keeping track of the likes and dislikes of all the people he deals with often. probably because there aren’t that many people that he deals with often.

 

“wow, jackson talked about his undying love for p.a.t.d. to yet another person?” jokes mark sarcastically, “who would’ve guessed?”

 

“he’s bitter, that’s it,” snarks back jackson, waving a hand at mark. “that i talk to people besides him.”

 

“don’t make me make your birthday your death day as well,” threatens mark jokingly. “when are we leaving?”

 

“when i finish making myself look the epitome of breathtaking,” says jackson dramatically.

 

mark flops onto his mattress like a sulky child. “we’re never leaving then.”

 

==

 

— **_28 MARCH  
_ **

**_21:18_ **

  


“looking the epitome of breathtaking is a process,” complains jackson as mark switches lanes. “you cannot disturb the process!”

 

“being punctual is also a process, jacks,” explains mark as jinyoung stifles a laugh. “one that involves cutting your eyeliner routine short if i need to.”

 

sulky silence for about five seconds before like usual, jackson breaks it. “so y’all are going to have to keep up the boyfriend act, are you?” there’s an edge to his voice, sharpened with slyness and teasing.

 

“mhmm,” says mark, lips pressing together in a mixture of distaste and amusement. it’s always fun when they’re play-acting being boyfriends, but the fact that it’s an act just takes away from the whole thing.

 

“personally, i think jinyoung is better at acting like he’s your boyfriend then you are as acting like his,” slips in jackson nonchalantly, evidently looking to brew trouble. mark knows he’s better than this, that he won’t jump to take the bait. jackson can trash his fake boyfriend skills all he wants.

 

“ugh, i know right?” seconds jinyoung, “he’s like a teenager on his first relationship.”

 

“excuse you!” huffs mark, “i did not ask to be attacked like this! for the record, i could be the better fake boyfriend by a mile.” okay, so maybe mark is jumping and taking the bait.

 

“okay, why don’t i judge?” snickers jackson. oh _no._ that is the worst idea. jackson is so anti-mark. he’s says it comes with the best friend territory. and jinyoung is so easy to be nice to because jackson has barely ever borne the brunt of jinyoung’s sarcasm. those two get along too well for mark to be happy about it. all that simply translates to: jackson will _not_ be fair with his judgement.

 

“because you’re a biased piece of shit,” reasons mark, taking a sharp turn. “and judge what, by the way?”

 

“i’m saying,” there’s an icing to jackson’s words, tasting of dubious intent and burning of competition, all that jackson is made of. “that you two can have a competition—who can be the better fake boyfriend. after all, half of the purpose of this is for you to show off your boyfriend, mark. i just want to make things a little more...interesting.”

 

mark rolls his eyes, a tight knot forming in his chest at the thought of the emotional torture he’s going to have to undergo for the next few hours. sure, he said he was all good with this free trade of affection with jinyoung, but maybe jinyoung was right. for fake boyfriends, they act more so when no one’s watching. mark can deal when no one’s watching. When he can fool himself into thinking that the soft touches, the linked hands, the comfortable presence—all that is real. “you’re sadistic.”

 

“it’s that painful to act as my boyfriend?” asks jinyoung, and there’s an edge to his voice. painful? dear god, boy, you’ll never know. of course it’s painful, but it’s the good kind of pain. like the pain in your stomach that you get after laughing too much, or the pain in your muscles after playing. it’s a pain that mark enjoys a bit too much—and he means that hoping that it shall not be taken in a kinky sense—, but it’s pain regardless. and that really sucks.

 

“obviously not.” mark can’t lie completely. he has the literal excuse to be all over jinyoung and justify it to himself by saying that they’re playing roles in a drama, and how many people have that opportunity?

 

“he’s just afraid he’ll lose,” explains jackson very helpfully. “you sure you’re not up for this, markiepooh?”

 

what are the pros? he can cling to jinyoung and smother him with all the affection that he wants to, and can get all that back, and he gets awarded the title of best fake boyfriend. cons? he. is. pretending. for fuck’s sake. and will probably have to face the judgemental stares of the others who are coming.

 

“i’m up for this,” says mark, after a few seconds of contemplation. “i’ll whoop your ass at this, jinyoung.”

 

“kinky stuff is not allowed,” says jackson firmly, and jinyoung laughs as mark rolls his eyes. “and no kissing either. otherwise jinyoung has the easy advantage. let’s keep this interesting.”

 

“fuck you,” says jinyoung, still laughing behind his hand, checking the map on his phone. “okay, pull up here.”

 

jackson flings himself out of the car at seeing the little group of people clustered near the entrance of the building and that familiar asocial grip wraps itself around jinyoung. socialize? there were easily about ten people there. too many homo sapiens for jinyoung’s taste.

 

mark must be feeling the same way because he turns in the driver’s seat to meet jinyoung’s eyes. “you feeling up to this?” jinyoung shrugs in response. “i know. honestly, if jackson wasn’t my best friend, i wouldn’t be caught dead at something like this.”

 

“i feel like i’m being put up for judgement here,” explains jinyoung, eyeing the group of people who are taking turns hugging jackson. “is this boy, jinyoung of park, third year of reading books (which apparently counts as a subject to study), master of avoiding human interaction, good enough for mark tuan?”

 

and yes, he’s terrified of being judged. all anyone knows him here as is mark’s boyfriend. they did come here to celebrate jackson’s birthday, but jackson had put it out himself. it was a chance for their friends to meet jinyoung too. park jinyoung, mark’s famed boyfriend from the day of the failed ana date. he doesn’t want to talk to any of them, doesn’t want to hear any of them say, “mark’s lucky to have you”, or say, “how did mark pick _you?_ ” (even though he knows that no one will actually say the latter to him, hopefully).

 

maybe all until this point...well, he doesn’t know what the difference was, but now he’s a little scared. of what? he doesn’t know. mark’s still looking at him, eyes a little apprehensive, a little masked, like he’s hiding how much he hates this kind of social interaction, just so jinyoung feels a little better. “you know, regardless of what they say…” mark begins to say, then cuts himself off. “wait, i didn’t mean to start like that. i mean,” he clears his throat uncomfortably. “this is all an act anyway. none of that should matter. they’re judging my supposed boyfriend, not you.” a note of bitterness inevitably finds its way into his words, and mark internally curses.

 

“but i am your supposed boyfriend.” jinyoung takes mark’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

 

mark gives him a half-smile. “whatever. let’s go kick their asses with our overwhelming gayness.”

 

jinyoung grins, and they step out of the car and make their way to the group, not holding hands, but with jinyoung’s pinky tentatively linked to mark’s. getting to the point of overwhelming gayness is a process too.

 

there are about ten others, and jackson does the introductions fairly quickly. the names just go over jinyoung’s head. there’s wurin, who he’s already met, and cheoljoo as well. there are a couple girls and a couple more boys, all fancily dressed, and jinyoung telepathically thanks mark for telling him to change his outfit, no arguments. there’s another girl there who jinyoung would’ve had for company though, a girl that jackson introduces as, “this is seoyeon—what the fuck are you wearing, kid?”

 

seoyeon, who looks at least four years younger than the rest of them, just laughs that off, flaunting her faded big bang tee and baggy jeans with a little twirl. “you said we were going dancing. you think i’m actually going to dress up for that? it’s a pain dancing in heels and dresses.” one of the other girls there, one who looks a lot like seoyeon, laughs good-naturedly and swats seoyeon’s long braid. “i knew it was a mistake to bring my baby sister,” she says, in an almost apologetic tone.

 

“nah,” disagrees mark, and seoyeon shoots finger guns at him, saying, “see? mark’s on my side. he’s way cooler than you, eonnie.” she gives mark a fist bump, and the interaction leaves jinyoung pleasantly amused. looks like there is someone here besides jackson that mark doesn’t completely hate.

 

the crowd moves to enter the club, and seoyeon falls into step with mark and jinyoung towards the back of the group.

 

“i thought seohwi said she wasn’t bringing you because you were under eighteen,” comments mark.

 

“she also said i wasn’t capable of securing a fake i.d., so who’s the real idiot here?” giggles seoyeon, and mark nods approvingly. she turns to jinyoung. “so you’re the boyfriend here, are you?”

 

“yup,” responds jinyoung, popping the ‘p’. that’s him. the boyfriend.

 

seoyeon smiles. “you’ve got a piece of work on your hands. how do you deal with mark at all?” mark hits her arm in response.

 

“it does get tiring sometimes,” sighs jinyoung dramatically, even though he knows he’s completely lying to himself. he’ll act like he’s annoyed with people around others, but the others don’t know how attached he is otherwise. jinyoung could never get tired of mark. his fear lies in when mark will get tired of him. “but his employee benefits at the café means that he can bring back a lot of cupcakes, and that’s the only legitimate reason to date him.”

 

seoyeon laughs, bright and cheerful. “legit enough.”

 

once their i.d.s have been checked, with mark seeming a little more apprehensive when seoyeon hands over her i.d. than _she_ actually is, they enter a wide area where a loud song that jinyoung vaguely thinks is familiar is playing. there are people everywhere, and jinyoung can feel mark tense next to him. he instinctively takes mark’s hand in his own and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

 

neon lights light the area, with a disco ball throwing glittery specks of light all over the dancing bodies. jinyoung turns and there’s a couple making out pressed up against the wall next to them, tongue and hands everywhere. okay. he did not want to see that. mark tugs his hand and he follows him following the rest of them to an area deeper into the crowd, jackson leading the way with his larger than life presence, clearing the way for all of them to follow him, as though parting the red sea itself.

 

the song changes and jinyoung realizes he knows this song, and so do a majority of the rest of them, because a collective yell of appreciation goes up in the crowd. the large group splits up into a number of small ones.  seoyeon starts busting out moves that cause people to clear a large area around her, complete with jerky shoulder movements and swinging hips.

 

she waves at mark and jinyoung to join her. jinyoung loves to dance, but somehow he isn’t feeling it at all at the moment. mark looks like he wants to dig himself a hole and die right there. exasperated, seoyeon marches over and tugs on jinyoung’s hand. “you look like the type who should dance!” she yells over the music. a couple of the others, who hear her yell, whoop in encouragement, and jinyoung lets himself be tugged away from mark, who is then attacked by jackson the moment jinyoung starts bouncing up and down with seoyeon and the others. jinyoung catches seoyeon’s disappointed frown when she notices that mark doesn’t follow as well.

 

it’s not too bad. seoyeon’s enthusiasm is infectious, and she yells, “now you’re getting it!” when jinyoung starts mimicking her, belting out all the lyrics he knows. he glances over and see mark tentatively hovering near jackson, hyperaware of all the people around him, and jinyoung’s eyebrows draw together, the crease of worry forming between them.

 

_i should tell him to get his ass here.  
_

_but he doesn't want to dance.  
_

_well, even if he doesn't want to, i can just call him over!  
_

_i can't leave him there looking all uncomfortable.  
_

_well, he's not a stranger to any of them.  
_

_park jinyoung, i swear to god, you know how he feels.  
_

 

mark catches his eye and the concern written all over his face, and immediately puts on an ‘i’ll survive’ smile. jinyoung takes one step in his direction, but mark shakes his head, so jinyoung reluctantly goes back to his tentative dancing, laughing as seoyeon tries to spin him around despite the fact that she stands three inches shorter than him.

 

mark is not happy at all. the music is too loud and wurin’s presence is making him more angry by the second. he doesn’t even have like a concrete reason to hate him. it was just hate at first sight. that, and all the jabs that wurin has taken at mark over the years. mark doesn’t hate very many people, but dear god, does he hate wurin. and jinyoung seems to be having the time of his life, and mark can’t help smiling at that. jinyoung’s cute when he starts dancing. jinyoung’s cute very often. it’s rather annoying. can he not?

 

wurin locks eyes with mark, giving him a sneer. “not joining your boyfriend?” he yells.

 

“i don’t dance,” replies mark uncomfortably, highly aware that he is standing in the middle of a cluster of people, who just happen to all be dancing.

 

“obviously.” wurin laughs, loud and unkind, or maybe that’s just how it sounds to mark. he turns on his heel, head spinning. he hates the noise. he hates everything. he regrets coming to this in the first place.

 

so when jinyoung looks over again, mark isn’t near jackson, and this time, he detaches himself for real from the rest of his group and walks over to jackson, to whom he has to yell his question three times for jackson to understand.

 

“oh, you mean _mark!_ he’s by the bar!” answers jackson, pointing vaguely behind jinyoung.

 

swiping his sleeve over the sheen of sweat that’s formed over his forehead, jinyoung doesn’t have to look too far for mark, who’s sitting in the farthest corner of the bar, the furthest from all humans, a glass of clear liquid in front of him.

 

“you’re drinking...water? for real?” asks jinyoung as he slides into the stool adjacent to mark’s.

 

mark gives him a smile. “water is for children. intellectuals drink sprite.”

 

“so you’re not having a good time in any way,” says jinyoung bluntly.

 

mark stares into the depths of his glass of sprite as though searching for a reply in there. “just...very overwhelmed. too many people, too much noise, and i hate being around wurin. i’m this close to giving up and leaving.”

 

“you can’t do that, you’re my ride!” protests jinyoung in an attempt at humor. a poor attempt, admittedly, but an attempt that mark seems to appreciate, so still worth it. he hops off his stool and wraps an arm around mark’s waist, whispering into his ear, “come on, you can dance with me.”

 

“you know, jackson isn’t watching to judge now, so this doesn’t count,” says mark, seemingly unruffled, effectively concealing how his heart is racing at miles a minute.

 

“i know,” says jinyoung with a laugh that seems a little more difficult that usual, because his chest feels a little fuzzy, for reasons he can’t figure out. a voice at the back of his head suggests that maybe he didn’t do that for jackson’s judgement, but he shuts it up before he lets the thought take him over.

 

they make their way back to their group, fighting through the mass of bodies. seoyeon gives them a delighted yell when they come back. with jinyoung’s and seoyeon’s steady persuasion, mark slowly starts dancing as well. after a few moments of simply swaying, ‘dance dance’ comes on and mark completely freaks out and starts bouncing up and down, because ‘dance dance’ is like his favorite song _ever._

 

there are still a few moments when mark’s face will turn over to the people he doesn’t like, and that is when jinyoung will tilt his chin back to him, mouthing, “focus here,” and mark’s smile becomes steadier then.

 

jackson orders a couple rounds of drinks, and mark refrains from ingesting any alcohol, saying that he’s the one who has to drive jackson back, because jackson sure as hell isn’t going to stay sober. jinyoung helps himself to a couple drinks, not enough to get drunk but to feel reasonably buzzed, so that the entire world seems a little lighter, and smiling seems a little easier.

 

one of the guys, minhong, steps to the front and starts busting out some fancy dance moves, and while the others are getting impressed and clapping and cheering him on, jinyoung has a half-smirk on his face. those steps are child’s play to him, and jackson seems to know that as well, since he materializes out of nowhere at jinyoung’s shoulder and whispers, “i think you should challenge him to a dance battle.”

 

jinyoung jumps, then turns to jackson and blinks once. “you think so?” jackson nods.

 

jinyoung steps up and his others turn to him. had he been completely sober, his brain would’ve been screaming that this was a bad idea, but the point here is that he’s not, and therefore, as the others look at him with anticipation and the song transitions to ‘dope’, jinyoung lets his inner dance animal take him over, busting out the dance he has only done about seventy times in his life. It feels great, because jinyoung knows he’s winning. he can do this. this is what his talent is there for. he’s killing it.

 

jackson is hollering at the top of his voice, louder than the others as jinyoung finishes the first chorus, finishing by flipping his bangs out of his eyes and daring the other to go on with a slight tilt of his chin. minhong is stunned for a good part of a minute before the second chorus kicks in and he realizes that the others expect him to dance. jinyoung outdoes him without blinking, and once he’s done, and minhong has his arms in the air in surrender, there’s a newfound respect for him among the others.

 

jinyoung saunters over to mark, a blinding smile on his face, and in his state of giddy exultation, proceeds to pick mark up and spin him around once, holding him with his feet above the ground. mark laughs his loud, hyena-like laugh and buries his face in jinyoung’s hair, pressing a firm kiss to jinyoung’s forehead. “how drunk are you anyway?” asks mark with a giggle, his lips moving against jinyoung’s skin.

 

jinyoung’s stomach flips over, feeling like he’s suddenly fallen back to earth from his plane of ecstacy. he doesn’t know what possessed him to pick mark up and spin him around, but what has followed has resulted in quite unforeseen circumstances, complete with erratically beating heart and tight chest. “surprisingly, not very,” he replies, when he reminds himself that mark is expecting a response.

 

_what is this madness._

_maybe i’m just a little drunk, and i’m not feeling too well._

_yeah? and what sickness would that be? does it affect your heart as well?_

_oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._

 

“i thought jackson said no kissing,” reminds jinyoung as he puts mark down, his own voice feeling like it’s coming from a million miles away.

 

mark shrugs nonchalantly. “it’s not like he’s going to take points off since i did, right? so no big deal.”

 

“right,” says jinyoung dumbly. it takes him a couple seconds to realize that he’s staring at mark, who’s giving him a bemused look. he quickly shifts his gaze to the ground. _what is up with me tonight?_

 

“your dancing was fucking amazing,” says mark softly, his hand cupping jinyoung’s face and gently running a thumb over jinyoung’s cheekbone.

 

jinyoung’s heart clenches. _it’s an act,_ he reminds himself. _an act, an act, an act. don’t let yourself get drawn in like this._ static fills his head and he manages a weak smile. “it was okay.” a pause. “i think i need another drink.”

 

“oh my god, for real?” asks mark as he trails behind jinyoung to the bar, where jinyoung just asks for “the strongest whatever” they have.

 

after a little more alcohol is in his system, jinyoung feels a little better. seoyeon makes her way to the two of them, telling mark that jackson was looking for him. once mark leaves, seoyeon takes the seat next to jinyoung. “enjoying yourself?”

 

he gives her a shrug. “i think.” _i’m doubting everything i’ve ever thought and might be one the verge of becoming a cliché. i’m doing great. simply a+._

 

she nods slowly, rolling her tongue in her mouth as though she’s unsure of what to say next. “you know, i hate using phrases that people use all the time.”

 

“same, though.”

 

“but i don’t really know how else to put this,” ponders seoyeon out loud. “but he’s lucky to have you, you know.”

 

yup, jinyoung had totally bet that someone would say that to him, but somehow, it doesn’t feel insincere coming from her. it doesn’t feel like she’s said it just to have something to say. she goes on to say, “it’s like, i’m not a very social person, so i don’t have many friends in my school. i generally tend to hang out with my sister’s friends when i have time, and even she doesn’t care whether i’m there or not. i’ve hung out with them when mark was there only thrice before this, but he’s almost the only person that i can actually get along with in that group. he is the sweetest and i kinda worship him.” a small laugh. “and i see him being so ridiculously happy around you and smiling like that and i’m thinking, thank god he’s happy.”

 

jinyoung smiles, ignoring the brewing storm of voices in his head. “yeah?”

 

“yeah, he used to make me worry a lot, and i used to think, damn, if this kid ever gets into a relationship someday, i wonder what kind of girl he would date.” it’s amusing to hear seoyeon refer to mark as ‘kid’, especially since she’s four years younger than him.

 

“i failed you there, didn’t i?” jokes jinyoung. “i’m a boy.”

 

“your chromosomes do not matter. you’re better for him than i could have ever wished for. obviously, i couldn’t say all of this in front of him, because that would’ve been sappy and embarrassing, and so that’s why you probably would’ve guessed that jackson isn’t looking for him, and i pointed him in the complete wrong direction,” seoyeon grins. “go find your man.”

 

jinyoung doesn’t need telling twice.

 

( _but?_ his _man? jinyoung, for the first time, will admit that that sounds...too nice to admit._ )

 

==

 

— **_29 MARCH_ **

**_10:43_ **

  


when jinyoung opens his eyes feeling like the sky has fallen on his head, he’s still in the same clothes from the night before. some of his memory is a little fuzzy, but he remembers about all of it, all up until he and mark literally had to carry jackson up to the dorm room because he was that drunk and had passed out.

 

his head throbs and he blinks blearily around him. mark is up and sitting with his back against the wall, a textbook open on his lap. the sunlight filtering in through the windows makes his skin glow golden, his collarbone exposed by the loose t-shirt which is threatening to fall off his shoulders, a small frown of concentration on his face. jinyoung appreciates the view. a lot.

 

jinyoung scooches nearer to mark, laying his head on mark’s lap when he’s close enough. mark doesn’t look up from his book, but a small smile ripples across his face, his left hand moving to caress jinyoung’s bedhead.

 

as the burning in his chest—that jinyoung had dismissed as a result of drunk half-thought last night—returns, jinyoung considers, for the first time, the disease associated with these symptoms, that he’s contacted several times before, but still is prone to catching.

 

he has a crush on mark tuan.

 

==

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dsjkdljaskld i meant to post this yesterday but lia came over so blame her,, lmao  
> also i wish i'd posted this a few days ago so i'd made it in time for seunnie's birthday but uGH
> 
> Question of the Chapter: we all know that jinyoung is the epitome of oblivious and obvious. what consequences is his new badly-concealed crush going to have on their relationship, before either of them says anything?


	18. Chapter 18

— **_4 APRIL  
_ **

**_20:49_ **

  


“no! fuck off, five fantastic beasts movies?” asks jinyoung excitedly as mark scrolls through his phone while simultaneously not trying to bump into any other people on the sidewalk.

 

“yep, j.k.r. confirmed it.” the bell tinkles as they enter the café. junmyeon looks up from the register and smiles at the two. mark makes his way behind the counter as jinyoung takes a seat at one of the stools in front of the counter.

 

jinyoung opens his laptop and tries to focus on his latest paper, but out of the corner of his eye, he’s actually just watching mark. it’s been a few days that he has accepted that he might—just _might_ —have a crush on the older brunet, and the thought has been driving him nuts since. the cycle mostly goes:

 

_are you fucking serious? you just came off a crush!_

_yeah, but he’s no shinhyeo!_

_that! doesn't! matter!_

_oh, come on. what’s not to fall for?_

_fine, point noted. but you came off a crush like, days ago._

_you mean_ days _ago._

 _no, i mean_ just _days ago._

_but…_

_your stomach will behave. your heart will behave. your feelings must cooperate._

_you know what, rationality, fuck you!_

_okay, fine. when you’re crying all over again, we’ll see who’ll say i told you so._

_what if it doesn’t end up like that?_

_okay, take a chance. we’ll see._

_you know what, never mind._

_thought so._

 

it makes jinyoung sick to his stomach when mark looks over at him and gives him that smile. like, how dare. crushes are definitely injurious to jinyoung’s health and he’s thinking of suing the gods because he never saw that disclaimer alongside the smoking one in the trailer of his life.

 

when he begins to imagine his college paper calling out to him about how much it has been neglected, he shifts his attention back to the research he’s doing, so that he can actually focus the attention he has on something useful. he doesn’t really hear it when the bell of the café tinkles, or when junmyeon introduces the newcomer to mark.

 

only when he looks over and sees mark chatting with some stranger with curly black hair and large rectangular glasses do alarm bells start ringing in his head. he takes a moment to take a breath so that his rational senses have return to normal functioning, but he can’t help but be a little wary, considering the way mark is nodding and smiling at the newcomer.

 

_could he like him?_

_possibly. it’s a possibility._

_but that’s all it is, they just met!_

_he is attractive, though._

_stop freaking out._

_i am not! freaking! out!_

 

mark explains a couple things to the stranger, pointing to various things on the other side of the counter, and when he sharply catches jinyoung’s eye, jinyoung whips his head back to his laptop way too fast for the action to fit into the realm of normal behavior. he shuts his eyes for a couple seconds and then returns to his paper, hitting the keys with a little more force than intended.

 

 _this is stupid._ he knows. jealousy is stupid. is he even justified to get jealous in the first place? his angry thought reel is interrupted by a hand ruffling his hair, forcing him to look up. “who’s that new kid?” blurts out jinyoung, hoping he doesn’t sound too accusatory.

 

“he’s a new recruit here, helping us cover night shifts while gyeom and bam have their exams and stuff,” explains mark, letting his eyes wander back to the new kid, who’s talking to junmyeon. “his name is cha taeyoon. he’s from the arts uni a few streets from here. film major, third year. he’s a bit of a geek. it’s kinda cute.”

 

 _that._ that gets jinyoung bristling. “okay,” he says stiffly. _cute._ that’s fine. jinyoung calls people cute all the time. okay, people is only restricted to youngjae and mark but that’s not the point here, okay?

 

“whatchu working on?” asks mark, leaning into jinyoung’s space across the counter. jinyoung takes a moment to let his eyes flick over mark’s face before explaining what he’s typing up. mark looks like he doesn’t understand two words of what jinyoung’s saying but nods anyway, attention diverted when he’s tapped on the shoulder.

 

jinyoung’s cut off mid-sentence and not pleased about it at all, a flare of anger in his chest. the pressure he’s applying on the mousepad increases as he stares at mark and taeyoon, hoping someone will remember that he’s there as well.

 

“ah, i’m so sorry, did i interrupt something? i apologize.” taeyoon must’ve noticed jinyoung’s stare crossing the boundary into glare. was jinyoung even attempting to hide it? yes, he was.

 

okay, that’s a definite no.

 

mark looks between jinyoung and taeyoon. “no, that’s alright.” _no, it’s not_ , jinyoung wants to say. “this is park jinyoung. he’s a friend of mine from college.”

 

jinyoung blinks at the word _friend_. why did mark suddenly feel the need to be honest with this stranger? he tries for a smile, but it comes off a bit awkward. taeyoon, on the other hand, beams and introduces himself. his smile is infectious. jinyoung’s rational side starts taking over all over again. the kid seems nice enough. why should have anything against him? he’s probably super straight anyway. jinyoung has nothing to worry about. he’s okay. taeyoon’s nice.

 

nice, it turns out, isn’t the only thing that taeyoon is, as jinyoung finds out over the next couple hours. he is also, like jinyoung, a super-geek, and instead of being happy that he’s found someone to share fandoms with, jinyoung suddenly feels this possessiveness towards his fandoms, which is awful, because he’s _trying,_ okay? he’s really trying to like this boy, but something about everything about him just throws jinyoung a little off-kilter.

 

he’s also trying to take a share of something that jinyoung prides a little too dearly: the ability to get mark to laugh. taeyoon is funny, there’s no doubt about that. mark finds him funny too, causing jinyoung’s eye to twitch in a way luckily undetectable by the other two, every time that mark laughs at something dorky that taeyoon says because _no,_ jinyoung is the dorky one there with the bad jokes and the sarcastic insults. he’s not sharing that with anyone.

 

another problem lies in the fact that jinyoung’s inner gaydar is screaming that taeyoon is not all that straight. _definitely_ not all that straight. bisexual at best.

 

and _that._ that is the biggest problem. that taeyoon actually has a chance with mark.

 

==

 

— **_7 APRIL  
_ **

**_22:11_ **

  


jinyoung tries not to let it show in his eyes as he watches mark and taeyoon carry a large box inside from junmyeon’s car, the weight of the box causing them to almost drop it and then laugh over that. and then taeyoon says something else and mark laughs at that, and jinyoung gets even more angry.

 

he has accepted that he might be a little jealous. a _little._

 

“if looks could kill, taeyoon would be a dead kid right now,” says ana softly, sitting on the stool next to jinyoung’s. she decided to come along with him to hang out at the café for a bit after he mentioned it’s a good place to study. it’s a surprisingly empty day today, with no one there except them. that’s probably most of their fellow college mates have gone for a concert. some american sugar-pop band is performing. not really jinyoung’s style.

 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” replies jinyoung, but ana gives him a knowing smile and shakes her head.

 

as junmyeon takes the box and taeyoon follows him to the backroom to assemble whatever machine he’s bought, mark comes over to where jinyoung and ana are sitting, unaware of the last exchange, after which jinyoung is still frowning and ana still has an amused half-smile on her face. “what did i miss?”

 

“we were just discussing your very obvious flirting,” says jinyoung, a spark of mischief in his eye.

 

“obvious flirting? with who?” asks mark, as he wraps his arms around jinyoung’s waist, resting his chin on jinyoung’s shoulder. jinyoung’s cheeks flare pink, and he can sense ana judging him out of the corner of her eye as she works out calculus problems. he doesn’t get how people can multitask like that.

 

“you and taeyoon. both of you. giggling like teenagers.” jinyoung rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “noona, do you want to bet on who will say it first?”

 

“my bet’s on taeyoon,” responds ana, and jinyoung is so happy that she’s humoring him with his awfully thought out question. “mark will never say anything first. you could be stomping on his feet and he would only cough feebly to try and tell you to cut that crap out.”

 

mark puts a hand to his heart, gasping dramatically but not really having a counterargument. “seriously, though? that’s not going to happen.”

 

“are you for real?” jinyoung raises his eyebrows challengingly and turns to address ana. “noona, can you believe that when i met taeyoon, this bastard introduces me as his _friend?_ what better indication is there?”

 

ana sends a look in mark’s direction that jinyoung can’t really decode, following up with a plain, “yeah, that’s a pretty good indication. he still doesn’t know about the fact that you’re…?” _fake boyfriends. fake. boyfriends. emphasis on the ‘fake’._

 

“no, he doesn’t,” says jinyoung quickly.

 

“do you want me to tell him?” asks mark, but there isn’t enough emotion to the question to say anything about whether mark is offended or serious.

 

“nah, why would i want to ruin your chances?” snarks jinyoung.

 

“you don’t seem like the kind who likes to share,” remarks ana casually.

 

jinyoung hates that she’s right. he’s not good at sharing. especially people for whom he houses very complicated, fluttery feelings. well, not really complicated. it’s easy enough to figure out. “you’re right, i’m not,” he pouts, leaning his head against mark’s chest.

 

“whoever said you need to?” asks mark with a small laugh as he cards his fingers through jinyoung’s hair. god, jinyoung’s heart is thumping so fast at things that barely affected him two weeks ago. or maybe they affected him back then but he didn’t know.

 

“you two are so cute that you make me nauseous sometimes,” says ana, shaking her head and moving on to the next chapter in her textbook.

 

“the point here is that you think we’re cute, right?” jokes jinyoung and ana holds up a sarcastic thumbs-up

 

“besides, if taeyoon walks out of the backroom right now, your game is up,” reminds ana. half of jinyoung, the jealous, ugly side of jinyoung, wants taeyoon to walk out that door right now and have mark explain that yes, he likes to let all his _friends_ snuggle against his chest, but his other half, the annoying, pessimistic side, reminds him of the fact that he’s already reminded himself of too often. where all his good sides went, he has no clue.

 

“mark hyung? we need your help here!” calls taeyoon.

 

“go on, your boyfriend’s waiting,” prods jinyoung cheekily, and mark sighs in exasperation, pressing a quick kiss to jinyoung’s temple before striding towards the backroom.

 

“i’m sure you will be,” sing-songs ana, and jinyoung tells her to shut up.

 

==

 

— **_9 APRIL  
_ **

**_23:34_ **

  


mark has the beginnings of that glazed look in his eye again, as he reads over the set of words for fifth time in the last minute, and still not understanding. he’s reached the end of his learning capacity for the day, the information he’s digested now so saturated in his brain that he can’t process anymore. he feels a warm hand on his shoulder.

 

“come on,” says jinyoung softly, but firm enough to show that he isn’t going to take no for an answer. “enough for the day.”

 

mark stretches with a whine, his back cracking, then curls in on himself, eyes drooping. “five more minutes,” he attempts, even though he knows the response that’s coming.

 

“i don’t think so.” _expected._ but mark can’t even protest, because it feels nice, being looked after. it’s nice to have someone making sure that he’s doing alright. “get up, stupid. don’t make me carry you.”

 

mark pouts and stretches his arms out as though actually taking jinyoung up on his offer, but jinyoung scoffs and walks away. “ah, jinyoungie, don’t be like this,” grumbles mark, slowly dragging himself to his feet and following jinyoung.

 

jackson is already asleep on his own mattress, and jinyoung is lying on mark’s mattress. mark lies down next to him. jinyoung’s mind is far away, so mark decides to not interrupt, curling up and trying to calm the gears that are turning too fast in his own head. he’s never able to go to sleep if the last thing that he does before he lies down is watch something or study, and lately, that’s all he seems to be doing.

 

mark throws an arm and a leg over jinyoung. “what’s on your mind?”

 

jinyoung’s arm curls around mark’s waist, his face turning slightly. “i don’t even know.” an obviously shitty answer, and mark can see right through him. jinyoung has his overthinking face on again, where his eyebrows scrunch up and his eyes look too far away and he is very obviously mentally absent.

 

“do you ever wonder if you have a type?” asks jinyoung suddenly, after mark has almost given up on receiving an answer.

 

“like, a type of person who you like?” mark frowns. this is random. and not worth overthinking about. “i don’t think so.” he’s legitimately liked about two people in his lifetime, and they couldn’t be more different.

 

“like, i know you wouldn’t ever fall for wurin, but could you...would you fall for taeyoon?” there’s a note of tentativeness in jinyoung’s voice. he’s been teasing mark about taeyoon all week, so this is a drastic change of tone. this is a serious question. “you know you can tell me, right? i’m aware that i tease you a lot, but i don’t want that to affect your thinking in any way, if you know what i mean.” it’s crazily ironic, being teased by the one you like with someone who you do not like. mark silently curses the universe for having landed him in the situation in the first place.

 

mark props himself up on his elbow, pretending to think very hard about that question. he even actually considers the question. would he fall for taeyoon? maybe. under very different circumstances. maybe in a different universe. but has he fallen for taeyoon? nope. does he plan to? no. taeyoon is a cool human on his own, but mark’s thoughts is already a little occupied.

 

speaking of the occupant of mark’s thoughts, jinyoung shrugs when mark replies with, “i don’t know. would you?” because mark wouldn’t really put it past taeyoon and jinyoung to be one hell of a power couple. they would fanboy about their fandoms all day, share tips on writing—which is apparently something that taeyoon does as well—and basically be hashtag-goals. the thought makes mark a little salty.

 

“falling for people is a lot of work, and i’m a lazy person.” a lie. a blatant lie, also known as mark’s automatic defense mechanism. “why ask, though? do you like him?” _please say no._ mark wouldn’t be able to survive another shinhyeo cycle.

 

“nah,” says jinyoung quickly. “it’s just that the thought of anyone falling for a nerd like him gives me some kind of hope.” he laughs and turns away from mark, a sure sign that he wants to be hugged. so mark obliges, wrapping an arm around jinyoung’s middle and pulling him closer, resisting the urge to place a soft kiss on jinyoung’s hair.

 

after that fake-boyfriend-off that jackson had _judged_ and declared jinyoung the winner of after deducting points from mark for kissing jinyoung—which mark was wholly pissed about—mark went on about he was simply not going to kiss jinyoung anymore, which is such a struggle because mark loses his will every time jinyoung gets into his space, which is a lot, for the record.

 

 _some kind of hope._ what an idiot. if only he knew.

 

but he’s an idiot. so he doesn’t.

 

==

 

— **_11 APRIL  
_ **

**_21:07_ **

  


jinyoung is a saint, okay?

 

he has transcended his initial feelings of slight animosity and suspicions and accepted that there might be the slightest possibility of a markyoon relationship in the future, considering that taeyoon has approached mark’s very good _friend_ to ask for his number, as a blushing mess, no doubt. (or at least, that’s what it seemed like to jinyoung. he’s still not completely above embellishing the truth a bit to make it sound like more of a deal.)

 

and jinyoung, being the greatest friend mark could have, hands over the number.

 

he’s a saint.

 

“you’re a fucking dimwit,” contradicts jaebum. “you _gave_ him the fucking number?”

 

“yeah, i did!” says jinyoung defensively. “what was i supposed to do?” seriously, what was he supposed he supposed to do? it’s not like taeyoon knows him as mark’s apparent boyfriend. it’s not like mark is technically jinyoung’s anyway. and when it comes down to it, marknyeong didn’t start off properly as a friendship. it was an alliance of gays that morphed into a business partnership, where the benefits included were shared naps and cheek kisses. that’s it. that’s all.

 

“oh, i don’t know.” youngjae rolls his eyes. jinyoung dislikes that youngjae’s started calling him out on stupid shit that he does as well. just dealing with one angry sensible human being was enough. jinyoung doesn’t like that jaebum’s rubbing off on youngjae. “maybe say, _sorry, he’s in a relationship?_ you’re his fake boyfriend. not his wingman, for pete’s sake!”

 

“it’s a fake relationship,” reminds jinyoung. maybe if he didn’t keep reminding himself of that every single time he pressed his lips to mark’s cheek, the adjective wouldn’t come to him so readily.

 

“that doesn’t matter!” snaps jaebum. “you are the absolute worst, jinyoung!”

 

it’s been a while since jinyoung has seen jaebum get this exasperated at him, which is surprising, because it’s very easy to jaebum to be exasperated by jinyoung, who can’t really argue with him. he _is_ the absolute worst, but that doesn’t mean he’ll take that kind of disrespect lying down.

 

“what?” asks jinyoung, raising his volume to top jaebum’s. “am i the absolute worst if i just wanted to help a friend of mine out? wow, hyung, who hurt you?”

 

“there are answers to that question but we shall skip over that,” says jaebum wryly. jinyoung knows exactly who he’s talking about every time he starts with the implications. it’s a bad habit that jaebum picked up from jinyoung. youngjae doesn’t generally doesn’t know how to react when this topic comes up, so he doesn’t say anything. “my point here is, if you like a boy, you don’t go around encouraging other boys to cut the line before you.”

 

“i agree with that,” seconds youngjae, bumping fists with jaebum.

 

“of course you do,” spits jinyoung bitterly. and _excuse you,_ he isn’t telling them to cut the line. cutting the line is done without permission. he is merely being a courteous gentleman and offering his space to another on the off-chance that the other might want the spot so much more than he does. it’s not that he doesn’t want the spot. he’s just too nice. and vaguely masochistic.

 

“just because we’re fake boyfriends doesn’t mean i like—” starts jinyoung, before jaebum cuts him off, saying, “don’t you dare lie to my face like that.”

 

jinyoung shuts up. jaebum’s too smart for his own good. the day that jinyoung gets something around jaebum without jaebum noticing is the day that he stops listening to bangtan’s music, and that ain’t ever going to happen.

 

jaebum’s eyebrows fly into his dark fringes. “you think i don’t notice? that you’ve been going around with that air that you’re suppressing something? that you have that little secretive smile of yours on? i hope you know that you can’t get around me on this, jinyoung-ah.”

 

“i’m sorry, but even i noticed. you’re too obvious for your own good, hyung,” says youngjae, shaking his head. jinyoung would live without wanting to kill people all the time if they didn’t shake their heads at him. what did he do to deserve this disrespect?

 

jinyoung opts for a defiant silence, glaring at jaebum because he can’t stand the fact that jaebum is right all the fucking time. that and the fact that he can’t glare at youngjae anyway, because youngjae is youngjae. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

jaebum tilts his face, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “you sure?’ he asks teasingly. “because you always say that you have no clue what i’m talking about when you know _exactly_ what i’m talking about.”

 

jinyoung’s icy composure breaks, and he laughs a little tentatively, a little embarrassed. admitting it brings back the fluttery feeling again, the one that has jinyoung hooked. it makes his insides warm and his smile wide and is the actual _worst_ because it’s so much more intense than usual. jinyoung has had so many crushes over the years, and while he’s managed to be dramatic about every single one of them, there’s something about this one that tells him that even though it’s in its early stages, it’s probably going to end up growing to a magnitude too high for jinyoung to even process. “no.”

 

“figured.” jaebum rolls his eyes again. “you’re such an idiot when it comes to your crushes.”

 

“go easy on him,” chides youngjae, with no bite to his words, nudging jaebum in the side. “jinyoung hyung is cute when he has a crush.”

 

“ah, shut up,” grins jinyoung. but he knows that he must acknowledge that it’s true. half the fun of his crushes comes from having jaebum and youngjae in on the secret.

 

jaebum shakes his head. “luckily, you’ve got a crush on someone who is equally as idiotic.”

 

jinyoung doesn’t catch the hint. add another tally to the chart of jaebum’s failed attempts to explain to jinyoung what is right in front of him.

 

==

 

— **_11 APRIL  
_ **

**_22:56_ **

  


“jackson?”

 

“jaebum? why’d you call?”

 

“i have news.”

 

“ooh, sounds dramatic! is it good?”

 

“yep. the fish has realized he’s in the ocean.”

 

“that’s real shit code if you’re saying that jinyoung has finally realized that he likes mark now.”

 

“but you got it, isn’t that the point! also, how much better could you have done?”

 

“the oblivious male protagonist has awoken to his highly obvious feelings that he has been in denial of all this time.”

 

“i didn’t think you possessed enough brain power to form that sentence.”

 

“har har. how long have you been waiting to say that sentence to me?”

 

“too long, if i’m being honest.”

 

“you’re such a treat to talk to, jaebum.”

 

“i would accept that as sarcastic if you didn’t laugh after it.”

 

“i wasn’t being sarcastic. now back to the point. you say he likes him?”

 

“yep. what do we do now? when is the other oblivious male protagonist going to realize _his_ feelings?”

 

“i’m working on it. after which we should just let them figure it out, i think. that’s all there is to it.”

 

“true. it would be boring if we had to take care of this as well for them.”

 

“okay. thanks for the 411, jaebum.”

 

“bye.”

 

==

 

— **_12 APRIL  
_ **

**_7:32_ **

 

 **1** _new email!_

 

* * *

 

 **From: _L_** **_ucus Hilton_ **

**Subject: _H_** **_ey_ **

 

* * *

  


How do I even begin this? It’s been years, and I don’t know what to say.

 

Hey, how’s it going, Mark? I’m pretty sure I don’t need to remind you of the circumstances under which we last saw each other. I imagine the times we spent together are as clear to you as they are to me.

 

Maybe that’s why I’m writing this out. Time has healed the hurt, but not the guilt, apparently. That’s what this is. An apology.

 

I want to apologize for the angst my younger self caused you. I was young—17, i shall admit, but young either way—and I wasn’t exactly the best at...well, anything. as I think back as I’m writing this, I know for a fact that I could’ve been a better boyfriend to you. A better friend to you. A better person to you.

 

I shouldn’t have reacted that awfully after we’d been caught. It was wrong of me to say all of those things to you. I should’ve been on your side. We were in that shit together, and instead of looking out for you, I deserted you. I regret that to this day. As much as I would like to pass that off as something my younger self did, that I would no longer do, I can’t just forget about it. Even though it’s been four years, there is still no excuse for what I did, and I’d like to take full responsibility for my actions, and ask for you to forgive me.

 

If there’s one thing that all of this taught me, it was that the closer you get to someone, the more potential there is to hurt and be hurt. I fell a little too hard for you, and I guess the damage done was so much worse.

 

I decided to write to you on a whim once I’d found your email, but this is admittedly something I’ve thought of doing way too many times. I’m really sorry, Mark. From the bottom of my heart.

 

Hope all’s well with you,

Lucus

 

* * *

 

==

 

— **_12 APRIL  
_ **

**_9:43_ **

  


“what is with you?” asks ana, exasperated, as mark tells her once again that he doesn’t know how to do the problem. “you’re not even trying today!”

 

mark murmurs a small sorry and ana’s frown softens. “what’s going on with you? you’re generally okay when we’re studying. did something happen?”

 

mark weighs his options. through small conversations, ana has got him to confide in her, at least to a certain extent. “is it true,” starts mark shakily, “that the closer you get to someone, the more potential there is to hurt and be hurt?” the sentence has been running through his head all morning, and for some reason, he can’t shake the uneasy feeling that rankles in his chest every time he breaks down the sentence.

 

it’s like an omen. a sign. that he’s getting too close to people again. that he’s going to get hurt. lucus’s message was like a wake-up call. that he’s slipping up. that he’s going to make the same mistakes again. he would sit and tell jinyoung about it, but right now, the thought of jinyoung is not bringing any kind of positive feeling to him.

 

“where’d you get that idea?” asks ana, confused. “is it something to do with…?”

 

“no,” mark generally denies ana’s sly jabs or references to jinyoung, hoping that he can dissuade her from getting him to admit what she already knows. “it was...just a thought.” a lie. there’s his defense mechanism again.

 

“if you say so,” says ana, letting it go not because she believes him but for his sake. she’s too nice to him sometimes. “but why would you think that?”

 

mark sighs. “it’s just...the more emotions get involved, the more you are prone to being hurt, the more you can hurt the other person.”

 

“i assume you are talking about mutual attachment. not one-sided?” she asks, and the subtlety in the statement makes mark’s thought spiral plunge even further. mutual attachment. acknowledging that just makes this all the worse. yes, mutual attachment. not the same kind of attachment, but attachment either way.

 

“yep,” he says slowly, and ana nods like she understands. “well, what makes you think you could get hurt? or hurt him?”

 

ana asks questions like a psychologist, or at least like the ones portrayed in media, her eyes scrutinizing mark’s expression and fidgety movements. her voice is calm and steady, and she doesn’t look like she wants to tell him to just shut up and get back to work, which is good, because mark is in no mental state to work out problems right now.

 

“i got an email from someone i used to know. we didn’t get along. we were friends but ended up hating each other due to mistakes we both made, and it’s just that...him reminding me of his existence reminded me that there is always the chance that the person you think can do no wrong to you can turn out to be the one to hurt you, and that the more you put your trust in them, the more they can hurt you.”

 

“you’re not wrong. it is a sad fact of life, but not everyone is out to hurt you, mark. is it that you fear that someone around you might end up hurting you?” again, she’s trying to get him to admit it. he’d be rather exasperated but she can’t help him out at all if he doesn’t explain his case, so he can’t really blame her.

 

“yes.” he takes a deep breath and ana waits. “i’m afraid i’m going to end up hurt by jinyoung.”

 

“what makes you think that? he’s a nice kid,” a small crease mars the smooth skin between ana’s eyebrows. she’s developed a fondness for jinyoung herself.

 

“i feel like the most awful person when i say this, but he’s too clingy, ana, i can’t take it,” admits mark. he scrunches up his eyes and puts his hands up. “wait, that’s not right. it’s just…” he lets his head drop into his hands and frantically runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

 

“it’s okay, take your time,” says ana softly, hand hovering as though to pat mark on the shoulder before she withdraws it.

 

“i like him, okay? a lot. too much,” blurts out mark, and a smile flickers across ana’s face, a tinge of smugness laced into it. “and this whole fake boyfriend thing…” mark’s voice drops a couple notches. “...he’s just in general really affectionate, ana. and it’s kind of painful sometimes, because i am just the _fake_ boyfriend, and he’s still so okay with just casually kissing me on the cheek and hugging me when no one is watching. and he doesn’t like me. not like that.”

 

“and that is the problem,” confirms ana, with a small nod. “because he likes someone else?”

 

“he did. you know about that.” ana nods once more. “but he got over him, and i thought things would change, but it’s like they haven’t changed at all. i don’t know how much longer i’m supposed to wait. what if he has a crush on someone else? and all this while treating me like i’m the boyfriend. i get that this my fault that he’s my fake boyfriend in the first place, but god, i didn’t sign up for this emotional drama. i hate this. sometimes i feel like he actually likes me, but then i just have to keep reminding myself that it’s an act, that it’s the way he is, and it’s awful.”

 

ana blinks a couple times while she’s processing that. “first of all, that’s a lot of words in one stretch for you. second of all, this comes down to you. one option is to tell him outright that you like him. sometimes i get the feeling that he likes you, if i’m being totally honest, but don’t take my word for it. i’m not angling to give you false hope here. your other option is to just take a step back and reevaluate this. do you like where this is going? are you okay with this? if the answer to either is not clear, you need some space. maybe just bring down how much time you two spend together, or something. maybe if things cool off a bit, your feelings will calm down a bit.”

 

“you have a point,” admits mark. an unsteady laugh. “i can’t believe i just said all that to you, though.”

 

“i stopped judgement a long time ago,” says ana seriously. “also, i’m the reason you’re in this situation in the first place, so i do want to help.”

 

whenever mark is reminded that this entire thing started with ana, he’s forced to smile. ana is the one that everyone pins down as _unlikely to be associated to anything except her work._ and this entire fiasco is the result of her putting her work first. it’s funny if you’re not drowning in your emotional turmoil, which is why mark’s smile wavers and dissolves.

 

“i’ll...i’ll figure it out,” decides mark, finally shifting his attention back to the problem at hand, which lies of page 573 of his thermodynamics textbook, and this is the only time he will admit that the problem with the numbers seems easier to solve.

 

==

 

— **_13 APRIL  
_ **

**_16:02_ **

  


“how do you feel about cookies?” asks jinyoung, peeking into the cupboard to check for flour.

 

cookies? mark feels everything about cookies. he holds up a thumbs-up.

 

so maybe he went back on his initial decision to put a bit of space between him and jinyoung. what could he do? jinyoung called and asked if he wanted to come over in the afternoon. that was a yes or no question that mark is so used to answering yes to that he doesn’t know what a no feels like in his mouth anymore.

 

he watches as jinyoung busily sets out different ingredients on the counter, a look of concentration on his face, murmuring to himself as he checks each ingredient of his fingers and goes to find the next, and vaguely wonders what it would be like if he just blurted out the words _hey jinyoung, you know what? i really, really like you_ , right here, right now.

 

but the thought leaves soon enough when he tells himself to stop, and jinyoung begins to put ingredients together in a couple bowls, mark sitting on the countertop and playing songs on his phone. the music is merely on to fill the void of silence, and it’s pleasant. it’s rather domestic, but mark will not let that thought affect his feelings. he. will. not.

 

“pass me the flour, can you?” jinyoung wipes his forehead with his sleeve and mark clumsily hands the pack of flour, causing some to spill on jinyoung’s sweater. jinyoung hisses as though burned, picking up a pinch of flour and throwing it mark’s way, so that mark ends up with white powder over his black tee.

 

“okay, that’s it,” declares mark, hopping off the counter. jinyoung yells and runs to the other end of the kitchen when mark picks up a handful of flour, holding his palm open and blowing the flour jinyoung’s way, so that jinyoung looks like a person who’s fought their way out a snow-storm.

 

after one attempt of jinyoung to retaliate, mark goes to pick up more flour off the counter when he’s suddenly trapped against the counter, caged between jinyoung’s arms. he freezes, turning around slowly.

 

yep, they’re in too close proximity for mark to handle. specks of flour cling to jinyoung’s skin, and he’s smirking, face inches away from mark’s. he leans a bit closer, and mark flinches almost imperceptibly, thinking it’s finally going to happen, he’s finally going to kiss him, this is going to end right—

 

but then jinyoung presses his lips to mark’s cheek and pulls away, and the thoughts fizzle out into pure, plain disappointment, as well as a swelling echo of _what did you expect anyway?_ and he hates himself so much for even thinking that this time would be different. the block of emotions hardens in his chest, expanding outward painfully, so he feels like he’s choking and suffocating in his own failed expectations, his own dangerous feelings.

 

“for someone who tells me that i’m flustered easily, i think i one-upped you this time,” remarks jinyoung, eyes trained on the mix of things he has in the bowl. he’s not even looking at mark. “sometimes our friendship just feels like a game of gay chicken.”

 

yes, but the point of gay chicken is that both players are _straight._ is this straight chicken now? about who can be the most “no homo, bro” when they are in fact, absolutely homo, _bro?_ about who can just act like there isn’t the slightest chance that their relationship will never be anything but fake?

 

“uh, hey, jackson texted me. i need to go help him out with something,” says mark, pretending to read a message on his phone.

 

jinyoung looks up and pouts. “seriously?”

 

“yeah, sorry.” mark quickly shoves his phone into his pocket, taking long strides to the door. “i’ll see you.” _or not._

 

 _i give up, park jinyoung,_ thinks mark, his heart drumming in his ears with every step he takes. _you win this game. i can’t take this anymore._

 

==

 

— **_15 APRIL  
_ **

**_7:48_ **

  


jinyoung breathes and whispers to himself the one formula that he's been trying so hard to memorize. he has to enter the hall to take his kinematics quiz in the next ten minutes, and he tells himself that he's going to be fine. he's had enough tutoring in this subject.

 

his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out, his notification informing him that he has a text from mark. a buzzing sound fills his head. mark hasn't texted him at all the last two days since that abrupt departure.

 

 _good luck,_ the text reads, plain and simple. no punctuation, no emojis. nothing. jinyoung frowns, his anxieties acting up again.

 

his brain has been nearly ripped apart in the last two days, because he's been feeling like mark is mad at him and does not want to be around him, despite reminding himself that mark's exams are coming up and that he's probably just studying, and not ignoring him.

 

while the guilt complex that jinyoung has keeps trying to convince him that he committed some heinous crime which caused mark to shut him out, his more pessimistic and less guilty side reminds him that is simply _not that important,_ for fuck's sake.

 

a classmate of jinyoung's claps him on the shoulder, jolting him out of his mini-reverie. jinyoung collects his thoughts.

 

one thing at a time.

 

==

 

**_—19 APRIL  
_ **

**_13:08_ **

  


youngjae and jinyoung sit under the oak tree, waiting for jaebum to finish his quiz so that they can go or to eat. jinyoung's quiz got over a couple hours ago, and youngjae's have been over for nearly a week and a half, so jaebum is the only one holding up their post-second-set-of-quizzes celebration.

 

when jaebum finally shows up, jinyoung makes a huge fuss over how starved he is and how jaebum better pay for him and how he certainly is not going to eat light this time. jaebum just waves his hand so as to say, _so be it._ jinyoung follows through on his threat, so jaebum’s wallet is hating jinyoung by the end of the meal.

 

while they’re eating, youngjae slips in a nonchalant question. “so are you going to hang out with mark anytime soon?”

 

the memory of the last text sent four days ago, two solitary words, gets drawn back into jinyoung’s thoughts. mark has stayed completely silent since then, and jinyoung has also shut down contact, figuring that mark needs to study. but that doesn’t mean that jinyoung isn’t worrying about mark, or that he doesn’t feel the need to check to see if he’s doing okay.

 

“i was thinking of dropping by the café later today,” shrugs jinyoung, tucking into his rice. “i don’t know if he’s on a hiatus at work or something.”

 

jaebum and youngjae exchange a worried look at the forced indifference to jinyoung’s words. something’s up and they’ve caught on. jinyoung doesn’t follow up on the statement, assuring himself internally that once he sees mark again today, his inner discomfort will be put to rest. he can’t help but smile slightly at the thought of seeing mark again. jinyoung always has major separation anxiety when it comes to his crushes.

 

when jinyoung arrives at the café, bambam is manning the counter. he looks a little surprised when jinyoung walks in.

 

“hi, bammie,” smiles jinyoung, feeling better once he’s in familiar surroundings.

 

bambam gives him a smile that seems a little forced but jinyoung doesn’t catch it. “how can i help you, hyung?”

 

jinyoung’s eyebrows fly upward at that. bambam usually just takes one look at him and yells for mark. “has mark come to work today?”

 

bambam tugs a bit on his sleeve, surveying the counter as he says, “uh, no. he said he was staying in.”

 

_why am i even sad? what did i even expect?_

_i mean, of course he would’ve taken leave to study._

_well, that sucks._

_i just hoped too much._

 

“okay, bam, thanks,” says jinyoung, nodding politely and exiting the café. he walks down the street a little slower, occupied in thoughts of...well, that can be guessed easily enough. he doesn’t quite give all his attention to where he’s walking and bumps into a very tall someone.

 

“hey, watch it!” comes the initial growl, before jinyoung realizes who he bumped into and smiles. “hey, gyeom, what’s up?”

 

“not your eyes for sure,” jokes yugyeom. “nothing, hyung, just on my way to work. what about you?”

 

jinyoung shrugs, brightening up when yugyeom suggests that he walk with him until the café. “i’ll even make you a hazelnut latte for free,” offers yugyeom, and when will jinyoung ever say no to that?

 

by the time they reach the café, yugyeom has finished telling jinyoung about how he hasn’t come to work for the whole of the week because he has to single handedly put together the latest dance performance for this year’s carnival at their school. “they say it’s a flash mob, but everyone knows it’s happening.”

 

there’s panic in bambam’s eyes as yugyeom enters with jinyoung, but neither of them notice that anything up. “hey, gyeom, could i talk to you for a second?” asks bambam as they draw up to the counter, the smile on his face almost painful. for the first time jinyoung suspects that something is up. do they not like him anymore? are they part of some conspiracy against him?

 

“yeah, sure, hang on a second. i promised this greedy hyung a latte,” yugyeom laughs and goes to fetch his apron, getting dragged by the ear by bambam, who is evidently in a huge rush to say whatever he has to say yugyeom.

 

taeyoon is working on a latte himself, having some fun with the cocoa powder and not noticing jinyoung there. he looks more comfortable at the café than when jinyoung last saw him. the employers and the employees at the café are like a little loving family. jinyoung envies them. at work he has to deal with grouchy minseok and that’s just—

 

“hey, mark hyung, check what i made!”

 

jinyoung registers taeyoon’s words a little late, but he registers them alright. his chest tightens. is mark here? bambam is rushing over to taeyoon, saying “wow, taeyoon, that’s great—” but it sounds way too loud to jinyoung.

 

and then, mark himself exits the backroom, walking over to taeyoon. bambam has abandoned all subtlety and is simply waving his hands at mark, but it’s too late. mark has spotted jinyoung too.

 

_mark is...here?_

_then why didn’t bam just tell me?_

_does he just not want to see me?_

_seriously?_

_did he actually give the others instructions to not tell me that he came for work?_

_what did i do to deserve this?_

_he hates me. mark tuan hates me._

_maybe it’s true. they all end up hating me in the end._

_that’s great. i just desperately needed that fact to be enforced even more._

 

they have a brief staring match, but it’s not like any of their usual staring matches, which are playful and affectionate and mostly just fueled by the urge of one to kiss the other. jinyoung’s eyes transmit a clear question. _did you lie?_ and mark’s eyes shine with nothing but guilt, confirmation, acceptance.

 

jinyoung feels like his heart is being squeezed painfully, and his breathing is too fast for him to sustain this for long. he feels tears pricking at the back of his eyelids, but he blinks them away quickly, opting to nods once, firmly. “okay, i get it.”

 

and then he gets the fuck out of there.

 

==

 

— **_19 APRIL_ **

**_21:34_ **

  


“what the fuck was that about?” roars bambam, glaring at taeyoon. “i thought we agreed that we were going to help mark out on this, not royally mess it up!”

 

yugyeom is manning the counter and keeping junmyeon company, because missing out on the juicy stuff is his punishment for missing a week’s work, at least by bambam’s orders. yugyeom generally has no qualms with the idea of fighting with bambam when he turns unreasonable, but he knows that this simply is not the time. besides, the population is sparse today anyway, so yugyeom is just going to sit there and get bored, and the emergency backroom meeting does not have to be rushed, and bambam can yell all he wants.

 

“i didn’t even know he was there!” protests taeyoon. standing four inches taller than bambam, he looks like he could overpower the younger in a matter of seconds, but bambam is radiating so much anger now, even mark is a little scared of him, even though he has no idea why bambam is all worked up, considering that it is after all, a problem that mark created, and a problem that mark has to deal with.

 

“maybe look around you next time, why don’t you?” spits bambam. “now you just went and screwed up a friendship because you made it look like mark hyung was lying!”

 

“well, wasn’t he?” challenges taeyoon, tilting his chin by a small angle. “why did you tell jinyoung in the first place that he wasn’t there?”

 

“look, are you aware of this concept of space?” bambam speaks slowly as though speaking to a two-year-old. “sometimes people need it.”

 

taeyoon glares. “yeah, i know. and i told you i didn’t see him standing there. also, i just think you achieve your goal of putting space between you and the other person _too_ well if you’re fucking _caught lying_ to them.”

 

mark sits between the two yelling males, wondering how royally he screwed up. more than anything, he wonders if this is some kind of blessing in disguise. maybe now he’ll finally get rid of his feelings. he can finally learn to live like jinyoung never entered his life in the first place. as though jinyoung never entered, never made a mess, never was pushed out.

 

but what did he actually do to deserve that? mark feels like he’s being selfish. he might be helping his own feelings but what would jinyoung be feeling? and he knows that if he follows that thought, he’s going to end up in a helix of self-hatred, so he just focuses on the fight in front of him, feeling detached from the whole environment. bambam has gone red in the face, and venom is pouring from taeyoon’s eyes.

 

“i highly doubt you are—” begins taeyoon, stepping back after bambam shoves him.

 

“boys.” when junmyeon has the stern voice on, everyone listens. bambam doesn’t bother to hide away his anger, but taeyoon’s dissipates fast. mark looks blankly at junmyeon standing at the door to the backroom. “don’t scare the customers,” says junmyeon. “bambam, stop projecting your anger onto other people.”

 

bambam’s face falls, and the corners of junmyeon’s expression soften. he beckons bambam closer, and lets the younger one step into his hug, patting bambam’s head and whispering something comforting. bambam sniffs and nods, walking out to the counter to join yugyeom.

 

“i think you need to get back to work too, taeyoon?” asks junmyeon, and taeyoon walks out to join bambam. junmyeon stops him as he’s walking past. “go easy on him,” he advices, speaking softly so that bambam won’t hear. “he’s going through a rough time right now.”

 

mark knows what the rough time is about, and realizes why bambam was so angry. bambam has the habit of projecting his emotions in all directions, and that is either extremely good or extremely bad for everyone around him. junmyeon takes a seat next to mark. “would you like to tell me why bambam and taeyoon were yelling at each other?”

 

“it’s my fault,” says mark heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration and fatigue, his emotions weighing on him.

 

“i figured, because i heard bammie screech at the top of his voice that taeyoon has sacrificed your dignity and essentially thrown you to the lions as entertainment for the roman citizens that exist in his head,” junmyeon half-chuckles at that. bambam’s insults could be pretty creative sometimes.

 

mark sighs, knowing the blame can’t rest on anyone but himself. “he hasn’t done that. he didn’t know he was there.”

 

junmyeon is obviously confused with the male pronouns of the sentence. “the first _he_ is taeyoon, and the second _he_ is… ?”

 

“jinyoung,” explains mark, the name tasting acrid in his mouth.

 

“are you two fighting or something?” enquires junmyeon, concerned.

 

“something like that,” says mark, even though he knows that it’s not a fight because it’s not exactly two parties against each other but one party being against both parties being together, if that makes any sense at all.

 

“do you want to talk about it?” asks junmyeon gently when mark doesn’t elaborate.

 

“kind of,” admits mark. besides, junmyeon is older and more capable of giving advice than most of the people he knows. “i thought we were getting too close. i needed to put some distance between us.”

 

“out of curiosity, what’s wrong with being close? i used to observe the two of you sometimes when he was here. you two got along great,” says junmyeon, with the slight wistfulness to his words, as though remembering a moment from a decade ago.

 

“yeah, we did.” mark digs his fingernails into his palm. they got along great. _too_ great. “i just thought i needed to step back a bit. reevaluate myself.”

 

“i get that,” nods junmyeon, and he sounds bitter. mark frowns until junmyeon continues, saying, “i know what it’s like to step back from a person and needing to reevaluate, no matter how close that person is.”

 

a pause. “you’re talking about yixing hyung,” realizes mark softly. junmyeon doesn’t deny it. “what is going on with you guys?”

 

“i don’t know, mark,” and there’s a wobble of unsureness to junmyeon’s voice. “i thought we were fine. he had cut down on the clubbing too. and then i had to pick him up one night because one of his friends called me from his phone, because he was drunk as hell.” a pause, a grimace. “he said a lot of things in that drunk haze that day.”

 

“hyung,” mark’s face falls. he knows exactly what yixing would’ve said. “please tell me you haven’t spoken to him since that time.”

 

“i did,” sighs junmyeon. “he asked me what i expected him to do, if i expected him to take that back. i didn’t know what to say. i had actually thought he’d take it back. then he looks me in the eye and says, ‘junmyeon, i’m in love with you, and i can’t go on pretending anymore.’ what am i supposed to respond to that? i don’t like men, mark!”

 

mark wonders how to respond to that. by the tone of junmyeon’s words, it doesn’t even seem like he’s mad at yixing, or disappointed, or disgusted. it’s plain helplessness, because what can junmyeon do? he can’t change his preferences to make his best friend happy, and mark can sense that that is killing him from the inside, because junmyeon would’ve changed anything to keep yixing happy, but he’s at a hurdle he’s not able to cross. “so he’s mad at you now?”

 

“i told him that i didn’t know what to say. i told him that i was sorry, that i didn’t return his feelings simply because i couldn’t. i really do love him, mark, but our kinds of love are vastly different.” junmyeon heaves an almighty sigh and mark pats him on the back. looks like they both had some talking to get off their chest today. “he’s been avoiding me ever since. i think he hates me.”

 

“hyung, no one could ever hate you,” says mark comfortingly, placing his hand on junmyeon’s shoulder. “there’s nothing you can do in this situation. you can’t change who you are.” it goes both ways. mark has told himself the same, when the consequences of his sexuality were plaguing him. you simply cannot change who you are. “and if he hates you for this, you can’t do anything about it. it’s not something that’s directly your fault.”

 

“i think you mean to imply that you have done something that is directly your fault?” ah, dear, dear junmyeon. he always manages to catch onto mark’s excessive emphasis on certain words and derive his own conclusions, which are sometimes right.

 

a long moment of silence. “yeah. i told bam and taeyoon to tell jinyoung that i didn’t come in for work if he came to see me.” admitting it out loud makes it seem even worse. remembering jinyoung’s crumpled expression, the one that was replaced by an angry mask within a matter of nanoseconds, is just internal torture.

 

“ah, i never thought you’d be that kind of person,” junmyeon sounds like his disappointed father, not approving of the shit that his son got himself into, but willing to help him out of it anyway. “why would you do that?”

 

“i don’t want to see him,” says mark plainly. “i’m too close to him. i’m going to end up hurt. i always end up hurt.” he sounds like a cranky toddler, but this is the most straightforward way he can put it.

 

“so your solution was to hurt him first? because if you say yes to that—”

 

“no, hyung, that was not my solution. i was just trying to take a breather, and it was made to seem like i was lying on purpose to not see him.” _but i was lying on purpose to not see him, because i am extremely selfish and this is how i deal with shit. i blow it up in my face._

 

junmyeon doesn’t say anything to that, probably because his thought process is working along the lines of mark’s internal monologue.

 

“i know it’s stupid, but i’ll get over it,” says mark finally, getting to his feet.

 

junmyeon’s eyebrows raise just the slightest. “if you say so.” he doesn’t sound too much like he believes mark, but more like he’s just obliging the younger one because that’s what he’s supposed to do.

 

to be completely honest, mark isn’t completely sure that he believes himself either. but he’ll have to, or he’ll never take another step forward.

 

the only difference is that he’s taking it all alone now.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo i am baek !! i've been sick the last few days and looking at the laptop screen was like slow-cooking my eyeballs which means this update was delayed :// but i'm okay now and after this 9k shitfest of jealousy and heartbreak, i hope you are too !! i swear y'all thought jinyoung was gonna hurt mark after realizing his feelings and yes i know he's an idiot but he's not the ONLY idiot haha suckas /leans back and sips margarita B)
> 
> Question of the Chapter: i don't know how many of you would've caught this but jackson hasn't told jaebum that mark likes jinyoung. why do you think so? also, what effect is this going to have when it comes to 2jae's reaction when jinyoung tells them about the cafe scene?


	19. Chapter 19

— **_26 APRIL  
_ **

**_15:38_ **

  
  


“jackson!”

 

jackson tenses, realizing that he knows that voice, and begins walking faster. it’s been days since he’s talked to this particular male, and he’s still unable to bring himself to do so, due to his personal commitments.

 

“jackson wang!”

 

jackson can hear footsteps thundering behind him and flinches, figuring that he won’t be able to start running now without looking extremely suspicious. he still pretends nothing is amiss, walking with his eyes fixed ahead until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

 

“jinyoung,” says jackson, whirling around at the contact. “what’s up?” he’s stiff, a smile barely sticking to his face. he told mark he wouldn’t talk to jinyoung. after mark had explained his predicament, jackson, being the best best friend, had wordlessly thrown his support behind him, though not completely approving of the plan of action.

 

“i have a question,” says jinyoung, and his voice is strained, both because he just ran to catch up with jackson as well as the other reason, which is to do with who the question is about. 

 

jackson’s heart almost jumps out of his heart with guilt, but he reminds himself that he can’t be soft like this. in chronological order, mark came way before jinyoung, which is why in a sticky situation like this, jackson has to stand by mark’s side, but jinyoung’s defeated expression is not making it easy. he can also sense the slightest bit of defiance accenting jinyoung’s features, and if he begins interrogating jackson, jackson will probably not know how to react. “what question?”

 

“why is mark ignoring me?” and there it is, said in a voice so small and fragile that jackson almost feels bad. but he knows the torture that mark’s feelings go through, and while that is no direct fault of jinyoung’s, it is an indirect fault of jinyoung’s, so jackson will still pin it on jinyoung.

 

“he just… he tends to shut people out when he’s stressed, and you know the exams are a huge deal to him,” lies jackson quickly, and the excuse is not even completely false. mark does tend to get very wrapped up when he’s serious about something, and these exams have been on his mind day and night. 

 

now that jinyoung isn’t around to take care of him and make him timetables and play his caring boyfriend, or friend, or fake boyfriend, whatever, mark has thrown himself into his books again, and while jackson’s suggestions that mark should take enough breaks aren’t as effective, sometimes mark will look at the timetable (he says he doesn’t have it, but jackson found it hidden away at the back of his hydraulics textbook) and follow enough of it to make sure there is no repeat of the fever incident.

 

“oh. but how does that have anything to do with him suddenly telling the rest of his workmates to tell me that he isn’t there when i asked?” jinyoung sounds very offended, even a week after, and jackson doesn’t blame him at all.

 

“that. he’ll tell them to tell that to everyone. don’t take it personally, jinyoung,” assures jackson, even though he’s sure that jinyoung doesn’t believe him. “just give him some time. he’ll come around.”

 

“are you serious?” jinyoung sounds a couple parts incredulous, a couple parts sadly hopeful.

 

jackson can’t make any promises, but he nods, hoping to put jinyoung’s mind to rest, because the fact does remain that he and jinyoung are friends, and that the friend in him should guarantee just the slightest bit of peace for jinyoung’s mind.

 

sometimes a little white lie hurts less than the truth.

 

sometimes jackson tries to fool himself into believing the little white lie.

 

he likes to believe mark does too.

 

==

 

— **_26 APRIL  
_ **

**_17:44_ **

  
  


“jinyoung, when do you intend on telling us the whole truth?”

 

_ never. _

_ can i just bury the truth? _

_ so i‘ll never have to think about it again? _

_ that would be easier. _

 

jaebum frowns. “jinyoung, i know you got into a fight but unless you tell me why and how and whatever else is on your mind, i don’t know how you expect me to—”

 

“hyung.” youngjae puts a steadying hand on jaebum’s arm. “breathe.” he walks over and takes the seat on the couch next to jinyoung. “you can take all the time you want,” he says calmly, squeezing jinyoung’s shoulder, eliciting a watery smile from the ravenet.

 

jaebum sits on the floor next to the couch, looking up at jinyoung with expectant eyes. “you’re not happy when i tell you it’ll blow over. there’s a reason behind that and i think you know that too, well enough to phrase it. can you do that, please?”

 

_ i can. _

_ but i’ve lost my words. _

 

so jinyoung just tells him a short summary of what happened before the café incident, including the kitchen counter encounter, the cold text, the prolonged silence, leading up to the climax of it all. “and i think i really brought it upon myself. i messed things up. i think i kinda freaked him out.”

 

“you always think that,” chides jaebum, placing his chin on jinyoung’s knee. “you’re almost always wrong.”

 

“i’m not wrong this time,” sighs jinyoung, rubbing at his eyes, under which are the faint outlines of dark circles.

 

“can i kill him?” asks youngjae, a scowl drawn across his face. both jaebum and jinyoung look up at him with amused looks, jaebum’s lips twitching into a small smile. “what? don’t give me that look! i’m angry! you can’t lie to someone like that, until they have wronged you deeply, and you’re not that type at all. i’m going to  _ kill  _ mark.”

 

jaebum reaches for youngjae’s hand and squeezes it. “make it a date?” he jokes. jinyoung laughs at that. only his friends would turn killing someone into a date.

 

jinyoung puts one arm around each of them. “i’m lucky to have you two, you know?”

 

“don’t get all emotional on us,” says jaebum, rolling his eyes. “just get a couple plastic bags and a shovel, we’ll take care of the rest.”

 

“hyung, for real, it doesn’t seem to be your fault here at all,” reassures youngjae. “just hang in there. don’t overthink this and don’t think he hates you. i’m sure this is just a lapse in judgement or a misunderstanding of some sort.”

 

“and if he does absolutely nothing then it’s his loss, okay?” says jaebum seriously. “don’t let this affect your faith in people. if he shows his face around here i swear i will beat him up. i will not hesitate.”

 

_ what faith in people? _

_ well, i never learn anyway. what makes this time any different? _

_ a lot of things, but admitting that doesn’t help anyone. _

 

after a long, long talk with jaebum and youngjae, the weight that has been residing in jinyoung’s stomach for the last few days seems to have lessened slightly, though its presence is still definite. he’s  _ not  _ going to think about this. he’s tried apologizing, asking what he did wrong several times, but mark hasn’t bothered to open his messages.

 

his sadness slowly solidifies to anger. he deserves an explanation at least, and if he’s being denied that, there’s nothing more he can do.

 

so he decides to stop trying to do anything at all.

 

it’s all up to mark now.

 

==

 

— **_29 APRIL_ **

**_21:12_ **

  
  


mark rubs his eyes tiredly, deciding that he’ll take a small break. numbers float before his eyes. he’s been working the whole day, and he’s happy with the amount that he’d done, and anyway, all this torture will be over in a few more days. mark has spotted the finish line, and all he has to do is get himself over it in one piece.

 

his phone buzzes next to him. mark frowns. jackson is sitting on the opposite side of the room, so it’s definitely not him, and he’s muted jinyoung, not having the heart to block him, and mark doesn’t know of anyone else who’d text him.

 

the text is from an unknown number, and mark opens them, surprised when he reads the first text and discovers that the number is taeyoon’s. he doesn’t recall giving his number to taeyoon at all.

 

he frowns at his phone screen, because there’s a small voice in his head voicing the possibility that taeyoon could’ve gotten his number from someone else, and that is the only probable explanation. mark doesn’t even want to ask. could taeyoon actually have gone to jinyoung to get mark’s number? and would jinyoung actually have handed it over? a small flare of anger ignites in mark’s chest. why would he do that? did he  _ actually  _ want mark and taeyoon together? mark thought it had just been teasing.

 

he’s not even sure that he’s happy that taeyoon has his number. even bambam and yugyeom don’t have his number. mark, being not completely unobservant, has picked up clear signs of interest from taeyoon during his work nights, and today being the first day he’s taken off from work, he actually felt like he could breathe a little easier. it felt like mark spent time intentionally trying not to lead taeyoon on without being mean about it, because he’s hurt more than enough people.

 

taeyoon will always start the conversation, even if mark doesn’t make that huge an attempt to continue it, and mark is not lying when he says that taeyoon is good company, but he just has so much on his mind all the time, from formulae to the stress of failing the exam to park fucking jinyoung. his plan has backfired spectacularly, because jinyoung does nothing but plague his thoughts.  _ jinyoung would’ve laughed at that joke. jinyoung would’ve gotten that reference. jinyoung, jinyoung, jinyoung. _

 

taeyoon asks when mark’s exams are and wishes him luck, and mark keeps his replies short and impassive. he simply does not have the energy to deal with anyone at the moment and there’s a dull ache in his chest, because he knows that he’s being a pretty shitty human right now. the stress, both mental and emotional, have warped him into an insensitive version of himself, and he feels like he doesn’t know what feelings are anymore, because aside from the slight headache that he has, he can’t feel anything at all.

 

taeyoon texts that he looks forward to seeing mark after his exams, and that he’s sure that mark will do great. mark throws his phone aside and sighs, dragging his hands down his face. the blind faith is pleasant, but not what mark needs or wants to hear. he’s not mad at taeyoon at all, for what has the younger done but be sweet? he’s mad at himself, because he can’t even bring himself to appreciate the words.

 

jinyoung would’ve told him that he’ll get what his effort deserves, and it’s with that thought that mark goes on working.

 

==

 

— **_3 MAY  
_ **

**_12:13_ **

  
  


“yo, park!”

 

jinyoung looks up, surprised, because that voice belongs to person who has never addressed him before. woo hyuncheol, mostly known as won shinhyeo’s sidekick. “what?” snaps jinyoung irritatedly. he’s trying to finish some work here.

 

“word’s going around that you and that tuan guy broke up?” asks hyuncheol with an upward curve of his eyebrow as he slides into the chair opposite jinyoung’s.

 

“that’s a rumor,” chuckles jinyoung breezily, while there’s a sharp twist in his stomach. when they haven’t been seen with each other at all, of course people would start rumors like that. jinyoung has to just put on a smile and bear the anger and the hurt that rages inside him every time someone around him asks him about his  _ boyfriend,  _ his dear, sweet  _ boyfriend.  _ he hates everyone. “he’s just been busy with his exam prep.”

 

“oh well,” shrugs hyuncheol indifferently. jinyoung doesn’t know what that shrug means, and he doesn’t want to find out. if shinhyeo asked hyuncheol to ask him then jinyoung hopes the answer gets back to him. “good for you then.”

 

_ yes,  _ thinks jinyoung bitterly,  _ good for me. _

 

==

 

— **_5 MAY  
_ **

**_20:12_ **

  
  


“i think that’s enough for today,” says ana, stretching and rubbing her eye tiredly with her fist.

 

mark stays silent, staring at his textbook. their exam is the next day. the time has actually come, and mark somehow feels nothing but a muted acceptance. has he done enough? he won’t be able to answer until tomorrow. does he feel so wracked with nerves at the prospect of writing the exam tomorrow? no. he feels a strange kind of peace, like after all the work he’s done, he’ll finally be released from this hellhole of prolonged agitation.

 

“you okay?” ana’s voice cuts through his thoughts. 

 

he nods with a small smile. “how about you?”

 

“i feel like i’ll get there,” sighs ana, a smile of near liberation draped lazily over her lips as she leans back in her chair.

 

mark pushes his chair, feeling like his spine has compressed by a couple centimeters with all the time that he’s spent sitting in this wooden library chair. he tiredly gets to his feet, gathering his books and waiting for ana to do the same. they face each other for a brief few seconds.

 

“thank you,” says mark finally, and ana smiles and nods like she knows she’s earned that. “you’re a good teacher.”

 

“you’re a good student,” chuckles ana, and her eyes are sparkling despite her tiredness. “would it be too cheesy to ask for a hug?”

 

over the last few weeks, they’ve become good friends, closer than mark thought possible. there’s always been a respectable distance between them, no lines crossed, and it has been, all in all, a very safe friendship. not overly close but still offering a sense of security. “no, it wouldn’t be cheesy, come here.”

 

ana is so short that her head can be tucked under mark’s chin, but her arms are secure and the hug warms mark, like it’s a nonverbal way of assurance.  _ you’re going to do fine. _ then again, it’s also almost like a good-bye. if one of them doesn’t make the cut-off, they won’t return to the same university for their master’s degree.

 

“i hope to see you in the same batch next year,” says ana as she pulls away.

 

“definitely,” smiles mark.

 

maybe ana had been the wrong gender for jackson to set her up on a date with mark, but there is no gender in good friendship.

 

==

 

— **_6 MAY  
_ **

**_3:42_ **

  
  


“jinyoung.”

 

jinyoung stays silent.

 

“i know you’re awake.”

 

more silence.

 

“okay, that’s it, i’m coming down there.”

 

“don't.”

 

“too late,” growls jaebum, swinging down from the top bunk and taking a seat next to jinyoung’s reclining form.

 

jinyoung glares. “go to sleep,” he sighs, fixing his eyes on the mattress above him.

 

“i could literally tell you the same thing,” sighs jaebum, stifling a yawn with his hand. “and i have been telling you the same thing at least three times a night for the last three weeks.”

 

“and i told you i’m fine, and that hiding my laptop will not solve my sleeping problems.” jinyoung sulks like a petulant child. jaebum got really annoyed with receiving emails stating that jinyoung had updated some fanfic or the other of his at two in the morning, so he took away his laptop in the hope that if jinyoung doesn’t write before he sleeps, his mind will be calmer and he will actually be able to sleep.

 

but taking away the laptop has only made the voices in jinyoung’s head all the louder and heightened his frustration, because now he didn’t just have his overthinking that bothered him day in and day out, but now also has to deal with the backlog of fic ideas and dialogs that though he tries to file them away for later, always desert him when he actually has the time to write.

 

“jinyoung-ah…” starts jaebum, his typical hyung voice making its appearance as it always does when jinyoung’s overthinking starts taking a toll on him and he needs to be talked down.

 

“don’t ‘jinyoung-ah’ me,” snaps jinyoung, apologizing quickly when he realizes that he sounded rude. “i’m fine, okay? i’m getting enough sleep, by some miracle. i’m functioning completely normally. i’m not stressing at all. nothing is affecting me. i just have a lot of ideas and i really like writing, okay?” jinyoung hopes that some part of jaebum who knows how lost jinyoung can get with his writing will make him understand that his lack of sleep on some night is not due to the reason that he thinks it is, but jaebum is no idiot.

 

“just the fact that you went on that mini-rant to pitch a defence is enough to say that you are not fine,” points out jaebum, squeezing jinyoung’s arm. “you say that you’re functioning normally, and quite honestly you’re handling yourself a lot better than last time”—jaebum grimaces at the memory of the post-shinhyeo breakdown—“but just because you  _ seem _ fine doesn’t mean you  _ are _ fine.”

 

jinyoung sits up, resting his head on his knees. there’s a long moment of silence. “i’m not fine,” admits jinyoung softly, more to the darkness than to jaebum.

 

“do you want to tell me what’s up?” jaebum asks as though he knows what the answer will be.

 

for once, jaebum is actually wrong, because jinyoung does not open his mouth to open up about his feelings, but instead says, “no.” he just doesn’t know what to say. his thoughts have been muddled for so long, making no more sense to him than they did the first time he thought over them, when he thinks over them for the thousandth time. he doesn’t know what to say, what to feel, what to think anymore.

 

jaebum gives him a shocked look for a second, before realizing that this means that the damage runs so much deeper and pulling jinyoung into a hug. jinyoung’s eyes fill with tears as the piled tonnage of the last few weeks finally sinks in. why is he even reacting this bad? why did this circumstance even result in this amount of consequence? he’s been hurt by so many, many people, and yet, this seems to lacerate his emotions the most, and that’s such a high bar to cross.

 

“it’s okay,” murmurs jaebum, patting jinyoung’s head gently. “you can cry it out.”

 

“i can,” says jinyoung. “but i won’t.” he pulls away from jaebum, wiping his eyes with his palms. “i can’t even comprehend the reason behind my acting like the embodiment of an imbroglio.”

 

“you’re worrying,” explains jaebum plainly. they’re friends enough that there are times when jaebum knows jinyoung better than jinyoung knows himself. “you’re worrying and don’t know what to do because you’re not able to put those worries to rest.”

 

jinyoung knows that jaebum’s hit the nail on the head. “his exam’s today,” he whispers, so soft that jaebum can almost not hear him. “i’m hoping he does well. i’m hoping he just barricaded me from his surroundings under the strain of the exam. i’m hoping he doesn’t truly, literally, actually hate me.”

 

“hate is a strong word, and he doesn’t actually hate you,” assures jaebum, even if he doesn’t seem too convinced himself. he and youngjae have barely talked to jackson in the last couple weeks as well, for jackson has been on an avoidance spree of his own. “i would tell you that everything will get better, but fuck, i don’t know either, jinyoung.”

 

jinyoung can hear the weariness in jaebum’s voice, and he hugs jaebum once more, as an apology for dragging him into this as well. “everything will get better,” says jinyoung, struggling to not let his voice wobble. “i have you and youngjae, don’t i?”

 

“you’ll always have us,” promises jaebum, and jinyoung can’t even tell him to not make promises he can’t keep because right now, he just needs something to hold onto.

 

in the morning, jinyoung turns the idea of sending a good luck text to mark. despite his initial promise to himself, he’s toyed with the idea of texting mark a couple times, but he either gave up on the idea or was completely ignored, with the messages reaching but never being read. he still wants to text him, because while they might not be on the best terms now, jinyoung still should wish him luck because it’s the nice thing to do. it’s with shaky fingers that he types out six words.

 

_ do well, i believe in you. _

 

it's a bad idea, but somehow bad ideas have this way of tricking you into thinking they're good ideas, and only after you've hit the send button do you want to bury yourself in a hole and live there forever.  


 

==

 

— **_7 MAY  
_ **

**_12:57_ **

  
  


mark finishes the last question of his second paper, three minutes before the examiner begins collecting everyone’s answer sheets. he puts his head on the bench in relief, thinking that the benches of k.c.c. are way less comfortable than the ones at n.u.a.s.t., and wondering why they couldn’t take the exam at their own damn college.

 

it’s over. it’s all over. at least until they get their results in ten days, but for now it’s over.

 

it’s surprising that months of preparation essentially come down to two three-hour exams, and those exams pass so quickly, it’s like it never happened. mark thinks he did well. well enough. he has a good feeling, but most of the good feeling just comes from finishing the exams. he did what he could. the result is out of his hands.

 

jackson is overjoyed, bouncing around and yelling that he’s so happy that they’ve got that done with, and saying that they’ve got the next couple months completely free. mark reminds him that they have to finish their projects over the one month left of the semester, but jackson brushes him off and resumes his celebration.

 

“no pessimism for the moment!” hollers jackson. “we must live in the now! and now we must celebrate!” he makes the declaration loud enough to startle all the people around him and picks mark up to spin him around.

 

a nauseating wave of déjà vu hits mark, and he’s suddenly remembering the neon lights, the blaring music, the loud people, and the swooping sensation in his stomach when jinyoung had picked him up and spun him around. his smile drops from his face as though he’s been punched in the gut.

 

the feeling still hasn’t left. his mind is still whispering jinyoung’s name.

 

mark think it might just never stop, and that’s when he realizes how serious his feelings might be.

 

==

 

— **_9 MAY  
_ **

**_14:34_ **

  
  


when mark wakes up, he realizes that he’s been sleeping for the last forty-six hours.

 

and for as long as mark has been sleeping, jinyoung has been letting hope eat away at his sanity again. he was just hoping that once the exam was over, mark would text him to let him know how it went, maybe with an apology.

 

just  _ something. _

 

==

 

— **_13 MAY  
_ **

**_15:57_ **

  
  


r.i.p. jinyoung. 

 

minseok’s going to murder him today for sure, as he realizes when he checks his watch. forget murder, minseok will not stop at that. he’ll annihilate jinyoung. slaughter him. liquidate his very existence.

 

jinyoung’s running down the path to the gate of the college campus when he trips over a stone and falls against another male walking in the direction opposite to his, sending them both toppling like a pile of bricks.

 

“well fuck,” mumbles jinyoung, recovering from the shock quickly and propping himself up on one arm, a sharp pain in his knee. as he takes in the appearance of the male he bumped into, his heart sinks. “mark.”

 

mark is definitely winded, but seeing jinyoung has stirred something in him, so his eyes widen and he gets to his feet as swift as he can manage in his slightly addled physical state, prompting jinyoung to do the same.

 

jinyoung clears his throat awkwardly. what did he think seeing mark again would be like? well, it’s exactly as he thought, because his stomach is simply not cooperating, and he’s so relieved to just  _ see  _ mark again, and yet so gutted because mark is looking at the ground instead of at his face and doesn’t look, in any way, like he’s pleased to see jinyoung. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t looking,” apologizes jinyoung. “are you alright?” it sounds so tentative, so formal, so unlike any way he’d ever address mark before.

 

mark nods wordlessly. jinyoung tries not to think about the fact that if this had taken place a month ago, he probably would’ve hugged mark and pretended to pout to ask for forgiveness, maybe kiss him on the cheek if mark was in the mood to be annoying. the space between them would have been less than a fifth of what it is now. “how about you?” god, jinyoung missed that voice. he’s still missing the emotion that used to color it in all the hues in existence, because mark’s words are blank and monotone.

 

jinyoung doesn’t know whether that question applies to the last few minutes or the last few weeks. both times, the answer is still no. “yeah, i’m fine.” a pause. “how were your exams?” minseok is really going to have his head, and yet here jinyoung is, the thought of being eliminated from the surface of the earth not even on his mind as he goes against his inherent nature and actually makes an effort for the conversation.

 

“they were fine,” nods mark, still not looking at jinyoung completely, pulling at his fingers neurotically the way he does when he’s nervous. jinyoung resists the urge to slap his hands away from each other.

 

seeing that nothing’s going to follow that sentence, jinyoung continues. “so you’ve gone back to work?”

 

“yeah.”

 

“when are your results coming?”

 

“in a couple days.”

 

a painful silence, wherein mark looks like he wants the ground to take mercy on his soul and swallow him whole and jinyoung remembers that he has somewhere to be. “okay, i’m on my way to work…”

 

“yeah,” says mark a little too quickly. “i know, i’ll see you around, jinyoung.”

 

and as jinyoung watched mark walk away, his blood freezes, because he realizes that mark just called him jin-young. not jji-nyeong. jin-young.

 

and somehow, this is the first time that jinyoung feels gutted because someone pronounced his name absolutely, positively, precisely  _ right _ .

 

==

 

— **_13 MAY  
_ **

**_22:01_ **

  
  


“hello, jaebummie dear, how may i assist you?” snarks jinyoung as he’s forced to put down his book to answer the call.

 

“first of all, that’s hyung to you,” reminds jaebum snippily. “second of all, you might want to drag your ass down to the silver star.” the silver star is the club at which jaebum works as a part-time bartender, and generally jaebum hates asking jinyoung to ever come there, because aside from the fact that jinyoung hates clubs, he also cracks too many ‘guy walks into a bar’ jokes. the one he cracked last time that went something like “a dyslexic guy walks into a bra,” and jaebum was so done with him that he forbade jinyoung from ever stepping foot inside the silver star ever again.

 

which is why jinyoung is surprised when jaebum tells him to come there. “why?”

 

“just trust me for once,” says jaebum enigmatically, and hangs up. jinyoung despises it when he’s subjected to this kind of injustice, but it’s with a couple dramatic groans heard by no one that he gets himself up and goes downstairs to fetch his cycle. he doesn’t bother fixing himself up. he figures that he’s still not going to the club dressed as a businessman, but instead in a floppy grey harry potter tee paired with grey sweatpants. people can judge him. he doesn’t have the energy to deal with judgement anymore.

 

he reaches the silver star in about ten minutes, and enters through the back entrance because he doesn’t want to fight his way through a writhing aggregation of humans drenched in the stench of sweat, alcohol and hormones. disgusting. no harry potter tee should be subjected to that kind of torture.

 

exiting the backroom, jinyoung makes his way along the counter of the bar until he finds jaebum, who’s smiling at one of his customers and engaging them in friendly banter. his boss has told him time and again to smile more, and looks like jaebum has actually been listening.

 

jinyoung waves to jaebum when the older finally discerns his presence, and jaebum’s features curve into a diabolical smirk as he points to a person sitting at the furthest end of the bar. the harsh lights are distorting jinyoung’s vision but he knows, within a couple microseconds, exactly who jaebum is pointing.

 

_ what is mark even doing here, anyway? _

_ why did jaebum even ask me to come when he knows that i don’t want to see mark? _

_ is this what i rode all the way for? _

_ i don’t want to talk to mark. _

_ actually, i want to talk to him. _

_ he just doesn’t want to talk to me. _

_ then what am i doing here? _

_ first order of business: demand an explanation from jaebum. _

 

as if on cue, jinyoung’s phone buzzes in his pocket. jaebum has his phone out, so jinyoung already knows the sender even as he takes his phone out.

 

**imjbomb**

 

**[** _ online  _ **]**

 

**> imjbomb**

the whole lot of them are here

 

**> imjbomb**

BREATHE . i can sense your panic

 

**> imjbomb**

they’re here for wurin’s bday

 

**bookpark <**

what am i doing here then

 

**bookpark <**

i don’t want to see any of them

 

**> imjbomb**

i called you here so that you could talk

 

**> imjbomb**

to mark

 

**> imjbomb**

who btw is completley drunk due to some

skilful bartender-ing by yours truly ;)

 

**bookpark <**

bartender-ing ??? that could cause me to have

an apoplectic breakdown right here

 

**bookpark <**

and you !! would !! be !! the !! one !! to blame !!

 

**> imjbomb**

can you focys on the matterr at hand you dum fuk

 

**bookpark <**

ugh fine

 

**bookpark <**

what am i even supposed to do

 

**> imjbomb**

gO TALJ T O HIMNBINCH

 

**> imjbomb**

try to get a couplr answers out o him

 

**> imjbomb**

people r more loose lipped when tehy drunj

 

**> imjbomb**

o sht gotta go byskdjkdskad

 

—

 

jinyoung pockets his phone, shaking his head as jaebum starts pouring a bunch of liquids into a glass in order to help another already drunk person become even more drunk.

 

_ just...go and talk? _

_ is that a good idea? he’s drunk. _

_ this doesn’t feel right. _

_ you’re! just! talking! you deserve to know why he shut you out. _

_ but… he’s drunk. _

_ is he going to talk to you when he’s sober? _

_ … point. _

 

jinyoung gathers his wits and his guts, striding up to mark, who is staring morosely into the empty glass in front of him. hesitantly, jinyoung taps him on the shoulder.

 

mark jumps and squints at him. “who’d you be?” he slurs.  _ oh dear god. he’s so drunk. _

 

“it’s jinyoung, you loser,” informs the owner of the name, trying to ignore the little fluttering in his heart when mark blinks cutely in confusion. “jinyoung? i know a jinyoung.” there it is. jji-nyeong. the rush of familiarity feels pleasant.

 

jinyoung suppresses a chuckle. he’s imagining how hilarious it would be telling the sober mark how he acted when he was drunk. but the chuckle cuts off abruptly as jinyoung reminds himself that the sober mark doesn’t want to talk to him. “of course you do, you asshat,” he says, sounding resentful. “that’s me.”

 

mark’s eyebrows fly upward. “really?’ he asks incredulously, placing his hands on each side of jinyoung’s face and squishing jinyoung’s cheeks. “oh my god, it’s you.”

 

“thank god,” says jinyoung, rolling his eyes. “i thought you were going to embark on this soliloquy of extensive length about how i looked dreadfully familiar.”

 

mark blinks slowly a couple times. “i don’t know what that means,” he garbles finally, waving a dismissive hand. “but why’re you here?”

 

“jaebum works here. i came to uh, drop his keys off,” jinyoung lies.

 

mark scoffs, his eyes rolling exaggeratedly. “and here i thought you were here to be my knight in shining armor.”

 

jinyoung nearly chokes on his own breath. “your  _ what,  _ now?”

 

“but you don’t wear armor, jinyoungie,” continues mark, completely disregarding jinyoung’s reaction. “your clothes are always so… what’s the word? onecoloric?”

 

“monochromatic,” corrects jinyoung, even though he knows it’ll probably just go right over mark’s head.

 

“gesundheit,” giggles mark.

 

jinyoung is already done with this drunk version of mark. “that didn’t even sound like a sneeze,” he deadpans.

 

“i know,” nods mark, his head bobbing up and down like a kind of deranged bobblehead. “i just wanted to say the word. it’s such a fun word. say it, jinyoungie. gesundheit. say it.”

 

“i think i’ll pass—” begins jinyoung, but mark’s cut across him again, moving onto the next thing that catches his attention. “woah, your hair is like, so dark.” he puts a hand out and gently strokes jinyoung’s bangs, causing the younger to shudder imperceptibly at the contact. “scarily dark. like the depths of hell. did you dye your hair?”

 

jinyoung shakes his head, wondering where humoring mark will get him. “never have in my life.”

 

“pshh, you’re boring,” declares mark, stretching out the vowel sounds. “look at my hair, all caramelly, complementing my face.” he puts his own hands on either side of his face, doing the flower pose and trying to look cute. emphasis on  _ trying, _ but unfortunately for jinyoung, he’s succeeding. “i have a very nice face,” continues mark seriously.

 

jinyoung can’t argue with that, but he can attempt to clap back, even if he doesn’t mean it. “what a humble thing to say.”

 

“doesn’t compare to yours, though,” says mark in the same serious tone.

 

“what?” frowns jinyoung.

 

“don’t say ‘what?’, jinyoungie, because i will mess up that pretty face of yours.” mark takes a sip from his glass, that jaebum has sneakily refilled while mark was busy speaking to jinyoung. “like, how do you look in the mirror and still have perfect eyesight? your face is torture.”

 

this is new. jinyoung hasn’t heard this one before, and he’s gently amused. “how so?”

 

“because it’s too perfect,” explains mark, and jinyoung’s chest seems to burn at this. drunk words are sober thoughts. “look at you, acting like you don’t have a face that can drive  _ people _ crazy.” if jinyoung had been saying that sentence, he’d put the emphasis on crazy, but mark seems to put it on people instead, as though very subtly (not) putting himself under the category of people.

 

_ my face drives him crazy? _

 

“who’s ‘people’?” teases jinyoung, beginning to enjoy himself now. he can almost fool himself into thinking that they didn’t just go a whole month without talking to each other.

 

“lots of them,” nods mark, a smile tugging at his mouth.

 

“who? name the names, hyung,” jinyoung wiggles his eyebrows playfully, and mark’s face flushes red.

 

“just...people i know.”

 

_ yup, definitely him. _

 

jinyoung pretends that he’s flummoxed. “jackson likes my face?”

 

mark waves his hands wildly. “no!’

 

jinyoung shrugs innocently. “then who?”

 

mark is silent for a couple seconds. “i don’t know,” he chooses to say, the epitome of intelligence.

 

“really?”

 

“honest!” swears mark, hand to his heart. “i just know they like your face.”

 

jinyoung stuffs down a grin.  _ he! likes! my! face!  _ “so, uh, what else do you know?”

 

“i also know that they like your crinkly eyes and disbelieving laugh and that stupid, stupid habit of yours.” mark’s words tumble out in a rush, overlapping each other and jinyoung has to strain himself to understand him.

 

“which stupid habit? i have too many.”

 

mark just stares for a couple seconds, half a smile on his face, before something evidently comes to mind and he slips into being serious again. “that annoying habit you have of being impossible to hate. just, stop. i—they—need a reason to stop liking you.”

 

_ liking you, he said. _

_ to stop liking you, he said. _

_ he likes you. _

_ no fucking way. _

 

“why would you want to stop liking m—” begins jinyoung before he’s cut off yet again. “you should know that the only reason that i’m admitting this is because i’m so drunk i know i won’t remember this in the morning.”

 

“oh,” says jinyoung stupidly. well, as long as mark’s aware of that, but jinyoung isn’t exactly happy with the fact that mark will be honest with him only when he knows that he won’t recall it to regret it.

 

“do you want to dance?” asks mark brightly. jinyoung shakes his head. actually, he feels rather sick. the song switches to one with a slower tempo, and as people start breaking off into couples, jinyoung definitely feels like  _ no,  _ he’s not doing this.

 

mark places his hand on the side of jinyoung’s face, gently caressing his cheek. “don’t look sad, jinyoungie.” the addressed would like to implode right there, because mark’s eyes are focused (enough) and full of warmth and looking right at him. a sad chuckle escapes mark as his hand trails down jinyoung’s arm to rest near jinyoung’s wrist. “i don’t know why this drunk version of me is saner than the sober one.”

 

_ no fucking kidding. but i still like both.   _ “in what way?” enquires jinyoung.

 

“the sober me would like to hate you, and the drunk me is admitting that i don’t. at all. i don’t hate you at all,” mark shakes his head vehemently, looking like a wet puppy. “the sober me wouldn’t dance, but now i’m saying, jinyoungie, dance with me.”

 

jinyoung gives him a melancholic smile at that. “okay.” he holds out his hand as mark jumps off his stool, only to overbalance and tip right into jinyoung’s arms. mark laughs at that. “i can barely walk,” he informs, steadying himself by hanging onto jinyoung’s biceps.

 

“how do you expect to dance then?” wonders jinyoung.

 

mark wraps his arms around jinyoung’s middle, placing his chin on jinyoung’s shoulder. “just hold me and sway. isn’t that how boring people dance?”

 

“that’s rude,” chides jinyoung, but there’s no bite to it, so he obliges, swaying with mark, his cheek squished against mark’s head.

 

as the song ends, mark giggles, a sound too good and pure for the world and quite too much for jinyoung’s heart, which has been subjected to enough torture in the last hour. jinyoung kisses mark’s forehead, a soft kiss that lingers, feeling like he’s in some kind of detached dream, a drug-induced fantasy of sorts.

 

but as he’s pushed to the side roughly, all thoughts of dreams and fantasies abruptly vaporize, for the pain in his back as it hits the edge of the bar counter is very, very real.

 

a male (drunk, obviously) glares at him with bloodshot, unfocused eyes and pokes a finger at him roughly. “watch where you stand, faggot.”

 

mark, standing next to jinyoung, clenches his fists. “what did you just say?” the drunk stranger shifts his glare to mark, who has smoke pouring out of his ears. he’s going red in the face and his anger meter is elevating dangerously. jinyoung can’t even tell him to calm down because mark would not accept the excuse  _ i’m used to it. _

 

mark takes an unsteady step forward. “what did you just call my fake boyfriend?” under different circumstances, jinyoung probably would’ve panicked, because mark just said  _ fake  _ boyfriend, and wurin is right behind this drunk stranger, and has now turned to jinyoung.

 

“did he just say  _ fake  _ boyfriend?” asks wurin, words slightly slurred.

 

“no, he didn’t, he’s just drunk-talking,” says jinyoung quickly, wrapping his arm around mark’s shoulders instinctively.

 

“you fucking heard me right, i called him a faggot, because that’s what the fuck he is, and you’re no better!” spits the stranger, and mark loses it, throwing himself at the stranger. jinyoung catches him around the waist and pulls him back, kicking and struggling.

 

“mark, sweetheart, please calm down,” whispers jinyoung, pinning mark’s flailing arms to his sides as wurin steers the stranger away. “don’t get mad. it’s okay.”

 

“it’s...not...okay!” chokes out mark, trying to get out of jinyoung’s killer grip. “let me kill him, jinyoungie, i can’t let him insult you like that!”

 

“right, and if you die, who’s going to defend me the next time?” asks jinyoung.

 

“next time, you keep my memory in your heart and stand up for yourself,” suggests mark, and jinyoung shakes his head because jackson was right about jinyoung’s sarcasm rubbing off on mark.

 

“no.” jinyoung turns mark around so he can hug him properly. “the best way to deal with these people is to just not. they’re going the exact same way they think we’re heading—to hell.”

 

mark buries his head in jinyoung’s neck, and jinyoung is overwhelmed by the urge to laugh because that is how ticklish he is, so he shifts mark’s head to his shoulder. “can we please get out of here?” asks mark. “i hate being here. i hate everything. i hate myself.”

 

jinyoung relates to that feeling. he pulls mark along with him as they exit through the side entrance. there’s a small bench there, so jinyoung sits down, mark taking the seat next to him. it’s quiet all around them, and the night is barely chilly. jinyoung realizes how much he’s missed this, with mark leaning against him, a comfortable silence enveloping them both.

 

“i think i’ll regret not remembering all this in the morning,” says mark suddenly, his words melding into each other. “god, i just miss you so much, jinyoungie. so, so much.”

 

“i miss you too,” admits jinyoung, his windpipe twisting. “and i don’t understand why i need to.”

 

“it’s because—” a sniff, and jinyoung turns to find mark’s eyes full to the brim with unshed tears. “it’s because i’m not strong enough to be satisfied with just being around you, just being your fake boyfriend. it’s because i’m selfish and i want you to myself. i was to just be your boyfriend, no adjectives before that.”

 

a teardrop rolls down mark’s face, then a couple more. jinyoung holds mark’s face in his hands, gently wiping mark’s tears away. with every second that passes, his emotions rise closer to the surface, and jinyoung knows he’ll barely be able to hold in his own tears for any more time.

 

his eyes flicker down to mark’s lips, and with barely a second’s hesitation, he kisses mark. it’s a tight, tense second before mark’s alcohol-impaired nerve synapses transmit a signal to remind him to kiss back, and jinyoung all but melts right there. mark’s lips are sharp with the taste of alcohol, but the feeling of kissing mark is what has him drunk, the grip around his torso feeling real and safe. he keeps his hands on mark’s shoulder, bunching them in the material of mark’s shirt, kissing at this awkward angle until his neck starts aching.

 

“i don’t want any adjectives before the word boyfriend either,” breathes jinyoung, his lips florid and tender. he feels like his nerve signals are working at full speed, and at the same time not at all. he feels like he’s been raised from the dead, because after having dealt with a anesthetized feeling in his bones for so long, this excess of oxytocin in his blood feels very foreign.

 

“mhmm, i kinda guessed,” says mark, resting his head on jinyoung’s shoulder.

 

“then why are we doing this?” asks jinyoung helplessly.

 

_ why do you ignore me when you like me? _

_ why have you shut me out when you so obviously don’t want to? _

_ why are we both acting like we can’t be together? _

_ why, why, why? _

_ what is this madness? _

_ i like you, you like me. _

_ it was supposed to be this simple. _

_ but feelings are never this simple. _

 

“we’re doing this because my sober self is an idiot and thinks that running away from my feelings will make them go away,” says mark, the weight of his words settling on both of them.

 

jinyoung already knows the answer when he asks, “but that’s not the case, is it?”

 

mark lifts his head so that he can meet his eyes and gives him a sleepy, drunk smile “let my sober self admit that to myself. i’ll figure it out.” he pats jinyoung’s cheek clumsily. “you trust me, don’t you?”

 

“i do,” nods jinyoung. mark yawns, rubbing his eye with his fist and hissing about stupid contacts. “c’mon, let’s get you home.”

 

jinyoung’s cycle is only built for one person, so mark has to sit on the bar in front, leaning against jinyoung’s chest. the warmth is welcome but jinyoung just hopes that they don’t have to slow down or stop for anyone on the way, because he’s never had an extra passenger before and they’d just topple right over. it’s a slow journey until the college dorms and mark is so tired that jinyoung has to take him piggyback all the way up to casa del markson.

 

mark goes to change out of his clothes and jinyoung sits on the mattress with his back against the wall, wondering how he got himself into in this labyrinthine mesh of sentiments in the first place. mark returns in an overly large hoodie and sweatpants, dropping himself onto jinyoung’s lap heavily. he snuggles into jinyoung’s chest and jinyoung absentmindedly strokes his hair, feeling so overwhelmed with everything that he’s back to just feeling numb.

 

“i’m going to leave once you fall asleep,” informs jinyoung, and mark responds with “okay. my sober self would be so embarrassed if i woke up and saw you here.”

 

“it really seems like your sober self hates me,” comments jinyoung bitterly.

 

mark sits up so that his legs are wrapped around jinyoung’s waist. he places his hands on jinyoung’s chest, leaning in close. “can i kiss you?” he asks, and jinyoung lets him. for a while, he’d just like to be kissed, for this is all he’s wanted for so long—though maybe not while mark was drunk. mark’s lips taste of peppermint now. was he actually coordinated enough to use mouthwash? maybe mark is one of those extremely aware drunks, like youngjae.

 

“how could i ever hate you?” asks mark, his forehead resting against jinyoung’s. “i’ll come to my senses eventually. you’re an idiot, and i’m an idiot. we’ll get there, jinyoungie.”

 

_ we’ll get there. _

_ we. _

 

==

 

— **_14 MAY_ **

**_15:34_ **

  
  


jinyoung shoots minseok a smug look as he walks in nearly a whole half an hour early. jongdae frowns at him, but then again, he always does when he looks at jinyoung’s face. minseok informs jinyoung that youngjae is helping out a customer in the harry potter section and that maybe jinyoung should go help him out. jinyoung is only too happy to oblige.

 

as he walks through the aisle parallel to the harry potter one, jinyoung can catch the conversation between two people.

 

“... i don’t know, i just thought the concept was interesting.”

 

jinyoung freezes. why did that voice sound so… familiar?

 

“yeah, it is cool,” jinyoung can pick out youngjae’s voice and his loud laugh. “so you’re a major potterhead?”

 

“definitely.”  _ but it can’t be.  _ “my best friend and i read the series together, and we were in this obsession phase for so long—”

 

that’s when jinyoung decides to make his presence known, stepping into the plane of view of the two talking. he gasps, because all his suspicions have been confirmed. a small strangled gasp escapes his throat.

 

her hair isn’t in a bob anymore, but is cut even shorter, soft raven curls clustering her skull like a jungle at midnight. she’s wearing a tee that says ‘hairy pawter’ with the cartoon of a cat on it, and a backpack hangs off one of her shoulders. she’s wearing glasses now, and looking at him with as much surprise as he is, because of all the places for a reunion, jinyoung thought merch n’ more would be the last place on that list.

 

“park jinyoung,” she says softly, not betraying any emotion, and when she says his name, any doubt that he had about her identity is immediately removed.

 

“jeon jiyol.”

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SJKDJASD SHE'S BACK  
> i'm legit falling asleep over the keyboard because it's my sister's birthday today and i had to wake up early so i could make her a special lunch and then i went to hell and back editing this chapter :// we're so near the end guys can you see it /shivers in excitement
> 
> Question of the Chapter: when is mark going to get his shit together? would that entire drunk scene somewhat put jinyoung's mind to rest?  
> Writer's Q: what's your favorite part of this fic?


	20. Chapter 20

— **_14 MAY_ **

**_15:39_ **

 

  
_ no way. _

_ yes way. she’s right fucking there. _

_ she can’t be. that’s not her. _

_ yes it is, and you know it _ —

 

“stop doing the internal monolog thing,” she says calmly.

 

_ oh shit, she’s for real. _

 

“what are you doing here?” asks jinyoung, feeling like he should get his one sensible question out of the way before the shock recedes and the panic sets in.

 

“do you have time now? or are you working?” she asks first.  _ fuck, this is going to be a long story. _

 

“i can take five minutes off,” says jinyoung steadily, reminding himself to stay calm. he can do this. he can get through this with a level head and prove to himself that he can handle things like an adult. “i’ll tell my boss. can i meet you outside?”

 

she nods, mirroring his unfazed expression, and then she leaves. youngjae’s hand is in his pocket, poised to take out his phone, but jinyoung shakes his head. “don’t tell him. i’m serious.” youngjae puts his hands in the air in surrender, and jinyoung gives him a thumbs-up and goes to talk to minseok. he can only handle one thing at a time. jiyol’s explanation first, jaebum’s freak-out later.

 

jiyol is standing patiently when he joins her, her lips set in a line, like she’s repressing a whole bunch of emotions. jinyoung takes in her appearance once more, because he still can’t believe it.

 

“do you need d.n.a. tests to prove that it is me?” snarks jiyol.  _ unbelievable. _ she shows up after nearly three years, and she’s still sassing him. it gives him an ache of homesickness in his chest, like he’s suddenly been teleported back home after being away for so long and now doesn’t know what to do, because it’s nothing like he remembers.

 

“no. i know it’s you. i’m wondering what to do with that information,” explains jinyoung. a dozen impulses take him over. 

 

_ should i punch her?  _

_ nah, she knows karate. she’d punch me right back.  _

_ should i break down and tell her how much i missed her?  _

_ nope, i only have five minutes. _

 

jiyol shrugs. “you can maybe ask—oof!” jinyoung traps her in a huge hug, knocking all the breath out of her. it’s a couple seconds before she hugs back as well, and they’re both laughing, like nothing ever went wrong, like they haven’t been living with knots in their chests for the last three years. jinyoung feels like every emotion he’s ever hidden away is slowly taking flight, escaping their prisons one by one. he never thought he’d see jiyol again, and now that he has, he realizes. 

 

_ all i ever wanted to do was see her again. _

 

he missed her comfort, missed the way her strong arms would wrap around him and assure him that she’d always be there. he missed her very presence, her sarcastic remarks, how she’d pick up on everything so fast. he never wanted to fight, he never wanted to ask why, he wouldn’t have even stopped her from leaving if it meant she could be happy. he just wanted to make sure he could see her again.

 

“jinyoungie, i missed you so much.” jiyol squeezes him tight, her face breaking into a large smile, the tension between them breaking.

 

“i’ve been doing a lot of missing recently,” laughs jinyoung. he’s been dealing with so much angst lately that he feels he should just accept this miracle without question. “but how are you? where’s laon?”

 

a cloud falls over jiyol’s face at the mention. “he’s… it’s a long story, but i can’t tell it to you now. i have a company meeting tomorrow morning, after which i’ll be going back to the states, so can we meet up later today? i have so much to tell you.”

 

_ so much to tell you.  _ that sounds ominous and promising at the same time. jinyoung nods. “you’ll need to talk to jaebum too, you know.”

 

“of course i know that, i was going to ask if all three of us could meet up,” she corrects herself quickly.

 

“you weren’t,” grins jinyoung. “you expected me to understand that.”

 

“but you did, didn’t you?” she pinches his cheek affectionately, and a happiness blooms in jinyoung’s chest.  _ she’s here, she’s really here. my soul sister is back. _

 

“i did. okay, so there’s this club called the silver star, a few streets from here. tell a taxi, they’ll find it for you,” instructs jinyoung quickly, realizing that his five minutes are nearly up. “i’ll meet you there around eight-thirty, okay?”

 

jiyol holds up a thumbs-up and jinyoung skips back into the store, happier than he’s felt in quite a while.

 

==

 

— **_14 MAY  
_ **

**_19:27_ **

  
  


“yes, that was actually her,” says youngjae in a monotone voice as jinyoung turns to him for the nth time with that disbelieving sparkle in his eye.

 

“i was going to say something else, jeez,” huffs jinyoung. his hands are jittery as he manages accounts for the day, numbers all over the place. if he messes up the accounts, minseok will kill him, and that’s the only fact that is keeping his concentration.

 

“sure, you weren’t,” allows youngjae, and jinyoung grins so happily that the younger fondly ruffles his hair. it’s like jinyoung has miraculously becomes five years younger, all his problems solved and world peace achieved. it’s a wonderful change, one that makes youngjae’s heart warm.

 

“now, shoo. i need to finish this,” says jinyoung, gesturing to the mess of books in front of him.

 

youngjae nods and leaves, returning again in nearly an hour with a worried look on his face. “you’re still here?”

 

jinyoung looks up from his calculations. “yes, apparently,” he smiles.

 

“hyung, shouldn’t you be leaving?” asks youngjae tentatively.

 

jinyoung checks his watch. “no, i’ll leave in ten minutes, it’s only eight.”

 

“hyung, i think your watch is slow. it’s nearly eight-thirty,” says youngjae worriedly, showing jinyoung the time of his phone.

 

jinyoung swears at the top of his voice, startling the others and earning a glare from jongdae. as if his luck couldn’t get any worse than simply a slow watch on the one day he needed to be on time, his phone starts ringing, the display flashing ‘jaebummie hyung’ in bold letters.

 

jinyoung is preparing to flinch as he picks up the phone. “jaebum hyung?”

 

_ “jinyoung! okay, don’t freak out. there’s this girl who just entered, and she looks just like… uh, her. i’m serious! this is so scary. they could be twins!” _

 

“okay, now you listen to me when i tell you not to freak out. that is her,” deadpans jinyoung.

 

a silence from the other end unnerves him more than the likelihood of being yelled at.  _ “tell me you’re kidding. it can’t be.” _

 

“hyung, that is her. don’t panic, okay? i’ll be there in ten minutes.” he gestures to youngjae, mouthing the words ‘damage control’ and the younger nods like he understands and they both run for their cycles together.

 

_ “why is she here? what kind of coincidence is it that she shows up at the exact same club where i work? the universe is cruel and she hates clubs, for the record!”  _ jaebum is whisper-yelling into the phone, manifestly retreating to an area where he doesn’t have to handle the chance of her noticing him.

 

jinyoung takes a deep breath, hopping onto his cycle. “it’s not a coincidence.”

 

_ “then what the motherfucking hell is it, jinyoung?” _ growls jaebum, a threat embedded in his words.

 

“i told her. i told her to come there.”   
  


_ “jinyoung, what did you s—”  _ jinyoung hangs up before jaebum can continue, cycling at full speed with youngjae behind him. he’s barely stopped when he jumps off his cycle and runs to the back entrance, wrenching open the door to the backroom, where he knows that jaebum will be possibly having kittens by now.

 

jaebum is there, leaning against a wall, but he’s not alone. in a plastic chair opposite jaebum sits jiyol, eyes snapping towards jinyoung as he makes his entrance. youngjae follows him in, and jaebum’s face morphs from vexed to confused, because jinyoung never said anything about youngjae showing up, so jaebum asks him about the same.

 

“youngjae’s damage control,” explains jinyoung, and jaebum’s face softens by the slightest degree when youngjae comes to stand next to him, telling him nonverbally to calm down while jinyoung takes his seat on a desk pushed against a wall. 

 

jaebum clears his throat. “so.”

 

“so.” repeats jiyol dully.

 

“are you going to explain why you’re back? was ruining our lives once not enough for you?” snaps jaebum, and jiyol flinches. jinyoung scowls and youngjae puts a hand on jaebum’s arm.

 

“ruining your lives once was once too many—” begins jiyol, but jinyoung cuts her off, glowering at jaebum. “she didn’t  _ ruin  _ our lives, jaebum.” that’s too harsh. jiyol has her own side, her own story here, and jinyoung would like to hear it, even if he won’t like what he hears.

 

“right, because she wasn’t important enough to have that huge an impact—” begins jaebum, but jinyoung cuts him off too. “stop that! let her speak. she hasn’t been here two minutes and you’re already attacking? hear her out.”

 

“it’s okay, i’m used to it,” shrugs jiyol.

 

“what do you mean, you’re used to it?” challenges jaebum.

 

“i mean that contrary to the belief you have tried to force into your system that i simply do not matter, i do matter and your attempts to convince yourself over the last three years has not worked, and you don’t know how to deal with that.” jaebum’s lost for words as jiyol takes a deep breath, calming herself down. “look, i didn’t come here to fight, okay? i came here to explain myself. can i do that?”

 

jinyoung nods, but jiyol waits until jaebum has consented as well before beginning her tale. “i’m pretty sure you all remember up to me running away with laon, the letter, etc. etc. i was a very dramatic eighteen-year old. anyway, i sat for a fifteen-hour flight to new york, and halfway through, i could tell that he started having second thoughts. it was in the way he was being, you know?” jiyol used to use that phrase whenever she observed and deduced something but didn’t want to explain how exactly she got there.

 

“so i knew that if i asked confirmatory questions, he’d lie to my face, and i had to keep what hope i had. i was a young adult, flying away from home all by myself for the first time, and i was scared to death. finally, when we landed, i was happy, because we were going to start a new life together, all that jazz.” jiyol rolls her eyes. jaebum grimaces at this point, and jinyoung can’t help but do the same.

 

“you can guess that that was all bullshit. he told me he was going to get a coffee, and he just didn’t tell me that he was going to get it on the next flight to anaheim.” a pause. jiyol digs a fingernail into the pad of her thumb, like it’ll give her strength to go on. jinyoung and jaebum are listening with rapt attention, hanging onto the words of the story they’d been dying to be told for so long. “i was devastated, you can guess. i was sitting in that airport all alone and for the first time in twelve years, i cried.”

 

twelve years. jiyol really wasn’t kidding about that. she had been made fun of for crying when she was six years old, and had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry after that, ever. jinyoung had seen her break her leg in one of the most painful manners, but throughout the experience, she hadn’t shed one tear. it’d been jinyoung who had teared up from screwing his eyes together to prevent himself from looking at the inhuman way that jiyol’s leg was bent.

 

“i thought i had no hope then. i’d left good people who would never take me back, i’d left my family. my thoughts went to the darkest corners possible. i didn’t know how to pull myself out of this. then this kid, about seven years old, came up to me. said her name was chaemi, that i looked korean like her and then asked me why i was crying. her mom followed her, probably figuring that since i was such a mess, i couldn’t be a threat. i was so distraught that i just told them the whole story.”

 

“i don’t regret that for one moment now, because i now owe my life to them.” there’s a small thankful smile on jiyol’s face, signalling that this is the part where it all changed for her. “so chaemi’s mom—her name was joha—”

 

“you trusted a woman because her name meant ‘good’?” asks jaebum incredulously.

 

jiyol rolls her eyes. “it was a chance taken on both sides. she took a chance on me and i took a chance on her. besides, chaemi was hell bent on doing something to help me. i even contacted my parents, and told them all that had happened.”

 

“wait, but they told us that you just… poof.” jinyoung’s jaw drops open. jiyol’s parents had told them all this time that they didn’t open a police investigation into jiyol’s running away because she was an adult who had made her decision and that they didn’t want to be caught up in scandal. 

 

“i told them to tell you that,” confesses jiyol guiltily. “i’m sorry, i didn't want you guys to know how much of a failure i'd made myself. i knew that nothing i could ever say after that point, especially when the wound was so fresh, would’ve changed anything. i thought it’d be better if you thought i was just gone.” she waits for one of them to nod—jinyoung again—before she goes on. “anyway, after joha offered to let me stay with her for a few days until i found another place to stay, i was determined to help all i could. i helped chaemi out with her school work and tutored her. i’d help with other stuff too, but it was just normal stuff until one night i saw a work file lying open on the dining table. it was code. c++, to be specific, and i got a little excited because—”

 

“yes, of course we remember that you excelled at code in school,” sighs jaebum, and youngjae slaps his arm. “what?” asks jaebum. “she excelled at everything!”

 

jiyol shakes her head. “anyway, there were a couple errors in the way it had been structured, so i took a pencil that had been lying there and made a couple corrections to it.” 

 

“this could’ve gone two ways. either you would’ve crazily succeeded, or you would’ve been screwed,” jokes jinyoung, and jiyol nods knowingly.

 

“looking back, i realize i was just really bored and helpless at that point that i did it without thinking, but the next morning joha eonnie came to me and asked me if i’d made the correction. i honestly thought i was majorly screwed, but it turns out that i was right, and that i finished what they hadn’t been able to solve for a month.” it doesn’t sound like she’s boasting. she’s just stating facts.

 

“frickin’ genius kid,” mutters jinyoung under his breath, while youngjae looks awed.

 

“so she hired me to her company, and it had just been established recently. i began doing some courses online on the side, but my payment was a small sum each month and i got to stay in the guest room at joha eonnie’s house. the company started growing, really slowly at first. there were times when things were so huge a disaster that we thought we wouldn’t be able to make it out unscathed, but we’re doing well now. we came here for a meeting, and i knew i had to find some way to track down you guys and talk to you. i couldn’t,” she struggles with herself for a few seconds. “i couldn’t leave things the way they were, even though i thought originally that that’d be a good idea. i needed some closure myself.”

 

“but that merch n’ more meeting was a complete coincidence.” jinyoung leans against the wall, head spinning with the information he’s digesting.

 

“you met at merch n’ more? when?” asks jaebum, surprised.

 

“this afternoon,” explains jiyol.

 

“and you didn’t tell me?” whines jaebum, jaw dropping in offence. he whips around to face youngjae. “you either?”

 

“jinyoung hyung told me not to.”  _ wow, sold to satan for a corn chip, _ thinks jinyoung.  _ after all i’ve done for youngjae. _

 

jaebum pouts and crosses his arms like a petulant child. “ah, come on,” laughs youngjae, and jaebum turns away from him, sulking. jiyol watches the two with a corner of her mouth tugged slightly upward.

 

“stop that,” demands jaebum, glaring at jiyol.

 

“stop what?” asks jiyol innocently, but her guilty smile gives her away.

 

“the whole x-ray thing,” gestures jaebum with his hands, mimicking the  _ i’m watching you  _ gesticulation. “i know you can figure it out. it’s obvious enough.”

 

“i figured it out when he walked in,” chuckles jiyol. youngjae’s eyes widen. “it’s okay,” continues jiyol, addressing youngjae. “hold his hand. he’s been itching to have you hold it.”

 

“how is it that three years later, you still haven’t gotten any less embarrassing?” inquires jaebum, clasping youngjae’s hand like it’s his anchor to reality. he immediately feels the anger somewhat subside, and can even find it in himself to somewhat smile. jiyol has not walked through a flower road to get here. it wouldn’t be fair if he went off on her now as well.

 

jiyol smiles. “the three years have both completely changed me and completely not. it’s been rough, but i still feel like the same person when i look at you guys. you guys have changed so much. hey, jinyoung, did you find yourself a boyfriend?”

 

jinyoung ponders on that question for a couple seconds.

 

“oh, okay, i get it,” grins jiyol.

 

“what?” he asks, self-conscious. “what did you get?”

 

“it’s complicated.”

 

jinyoung shrugs. “true enough.”

 

“jaebum, you’re getting anxious about your boss, you should get back to work,” says jiyol, and jaebum jumps, having forgotten what it was like to have someone around who could read your face that easily. “i’m sorry i took away this much time of yours.”

 

jinyoung doesn’t know whether she means the last half an hour or the last three years or the last six years. jaebum gets up, nods once at jiyol and exits the backroom with youngjae.

 

jiyol walks over, taking a seat on the desk next to jinyoung, who moves over to make space. “you wanna tell me about your complicated love life?”

 

“i think you mean my non-existent love life,” corrects jinyoung, even though he knows that’s a lie.

 

“sure, that’s what i mean,” says jiyol, rolling her eyes. jinyoung blames her for his current eye-rolling habit. “what happened yesterday?”

 

“what d’ya mean?” asks jinyoung.  _ how is she still able to do this? _

 

she has an aura of suppressed smugness. “when i first mentioned a boyfriend, you tensed like you were hiding something and looked over at jaebum. the largest time-lag that exists between something happening and you telling jaebum is twenty-four hours, excluding cases where untoward circumstances come into play, in which case the time period extends a little longer. that’s why i ask, what happened yesterday?”

 

so jinyoung tells her, as brief as he can keep it—which is not very brief—a bit of background information about mark, the context under which they met, the occurrences that facilitated the beginning of their fake boyfriendship, and pandemonium that followed. then he tells her about what happened the previous day, and jiyol nods and exclaims at the right moments. he doesn’t have to tell her too much because he knows she understands.

 

“well, that’s more complicated than any shit i expected,” admits jiyol. “can i see a picture of him? i’m picturing bright smile, messy hair.”

 

“you’re right on both guesses, but what did i expect?” laughs jinyoung, opening his photo gallery on his phone. he has different folders for pictures with jaebum, pictures with youngjae, 2young2jae pictures and pictures with mark. he’s opened the latter quite a few times in the last couple weeks even though there have been no new additions—he’s a bit of a masochist that way.

 

the first selfie that pops up is angled and almost candid. mark is laughing and jinyoung is covering his face in embarrassment.

 

“i need explanations, jirongie, otherwise i’m going to write my own plots,” reminds jiyol, bringing jinyoung back to earth. 

 

jinyoung immediately jumps to explain. he knew how weird jiyol’s plots could turn out. “look, we had gone to get chocolate ice cream, okay—”

 

“a date, how cute!” giggles jiyol.

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes but he can’t help smiling. “and i tripped and the ice cream smushed on my face. mark is a vile anthropoid who constantly wants to take revenge on me because i force him into selfies when he hates them. therefore, he took my phone and snapped this.” jinyoung tries to sound nonchalant and a touch of annoyed, but it comes off as fond instead and he finds his inner voices rolling their eyes at him. but can he help that he finds mark’s obsession with chocolate ice cream adorable? like, the boy was literally asked what he would miss the most if he had to live on a deserted island for the rest of his life, and his answer was  _ chocolate ice cream. _

 

jiyol swipes to the next picture. “explanation, s’il vous plait.”

 

“i was wearing his glasses. i am blind with them and he is blind without them. hence the out-of-focus frame and the demented expression on my face.”

 

“what about this one?”

 

“that was at jaebum’s football game. he wasn’t going to come because he had a bad history with football—” jiyol raises an eyebrow at this and jinyoung adds an explanation. “—because he and his ex met on their football team, but he ended up showing up anyway.”

 

mark had been dead against going to the game. he hadn’t wanted to. jinyoung went with just youngjae like usual, but when jaebum got the chance to shoot the goal that could win them the match, the stadium had been silent, holding their breath, all except for youngjae, who immediately yelled his support, only to be followed up by two more voices, that jinyoung realized he recognized. it turns out that mark had decided to come to the game after all, along with jackson, saying that staying away any longer would’ve been like associating shellfish with death due to a bad experience with one clam. jinyoung liked the comparison.

 

“let me guess. you went and you hugged the hell outta him because you were so proud that he was standing up to his putrefied past.”

 

“you know me so well,” smiles jinyoung, draping a lazy arm over jiyol’s shoulders.

 

“i do, i do,” nods jiyol, scrolling and demanding explications until she arrives at the very last picture. “i take it this is from the amusement park?”

 

jinyoung smiles at that picture. he feels like he’s looking at himself from a million years ago, not a couple months ago. he and mark both have bright smiles on their face, laced with sweet guilt, like they’re hiding a secret. there’s still a bit of space between them, and jinyoung feels like if he went back now, he wouldn’t stop his slightly younger self from yelling at slightly younger mark because then slightly younger jinyoung would’ve never had to work up the nerve to apologize to slightly younger mark. they never would’ve met.

 

“the feelings run that deep, do they?” asks jiyol, sounding apprehensive and amazed at the same time. “it’s all over your face.”

 

“i really like him,” says jinyoung guiltily. “a lot. it scares me. i even told him about you.” and jiyol knows that’s a lot for him, despite not being proud of it.

 

“really? are you sure it’s just  _ like? _ ” asks jiyol innocently, tone composed, implications hidden.

 

the fact that jinyoung has not wanted to admit for so long comes to him in flashing rainbow colors, clear as day, bright as sunlight. he couldn’t risk admitting this to himself before, because he knew he’d be setting himself up for major heartbreak, but he can admit this to himself now, because it’s come to the point where he can no longer deny it.

 

“jiyol,” murmurs jinyoung, covering his face with his hands. “i’m in love with him.”

 

==

 

— **_15 MAY  
_ **

**_11:11_ **

  
  


jiyol waits impatiently as chaemi runs circles around her. “eonnie, eonnie, see if you can catch me!” screeches the ten-year-old. jiyol checks her watch again. does jinyoung honestly have no sense of time? the answer to that is an palpable no. he’s been the least punctual human for as long as jiyol has known him, and she knows him enough to expect that he has not changed in that aspect in the last three years.

 

she hears a distant shout. “jiyol-ah!” and turns, expecting to find only jinyoung, but is caught unawares by the fact that both youngjae and jaebum had come along too. 

 

she’s nonplussed, but not in a bad way. jaebum had made it clear yesterday that the most they could do was live their lives separately, that he had no intention of ever forgiving her or anything of that sort. she had whispered to youngjae as she left the previous day,  _ you’re his light, you know? shine so bright that he spends his every day for you and never looks back on mistakes he made, never looks back on people who shouldn’t have ever been there.  _ jaebum’s such a unique person. jiyol hates thinking about how she never really was worthy of him.

 

“we came to see you off,” says jinyoung.

 

the words stir emotions deep within jiyol.  _ this. this  _ is how it should’ve been. this is how she should’ve left, if she had been going anywhere in the first place, and suddenly she’s back to three years ago, sitting alone on an airport bench with one suitcase by her side, no home to go to and no one to help. she can feel her emotions closing up her throat, wrapping around her chest and not allowing her to breathe well.

 

“i’ll… see you guys,” says jiyol, looking at the ground, not able to look at any of their faces. every time she does she’s reminded of all the hurt that she put them through that they never deserved, of all the mistakes she made, of all the things she could’ve done differently. she’s reminded of nights when she stayed up so late wondering if there would be anyone left to care if she just vanished from the earth. she’s reminded of the scarred pad of her left thumb, that she marred by digging her nail into it to remind herself to come back to earth.

 

“who’re these people?” asks chaemi, tugging on jiyol’s blouse. jiyol smiles and says they’re old friends of hers, a lump in her throat. jinyoung waves cutely to chaemi and she says, “i like him,” nodding in approval. jaebum doesn’t even attempt to be cute, crouching so that he’s eye to eye with the girl and shaking her hand. “it’s nice to meet you.”

 

“you know,” says the girl solemnly. “you’re the first person who treats me like the adult that i am.”

 

she warms up to youngjae really quickly, even giving him a hug before her mom calls her over. jiyol looks at them once more, as though trying to memorize their faces, even though they’re imprinted in her memory for posterity.

 

“j.j.!” calls a woman standing next to chaemi. the boys make an intelligent guess that that is joha, but they’re confused.

 

“j.j.?” asks jinyoung in confusion. he used to use that, once upon a time, to say they weren’t triple j, but j.j. plus jinyoung. j.j. had stood for jaebum and jiyol.

 

“no one likes calling me joella,” shrugs jiyol, like it’s no big deal. joella is her non-korean name. jinyoung always murders the name when he tries to pronounce it so he sticks with jiyol. “no one calls me jiyol outside south korea, and so joella jeon just became j.j., and that’s all there is to it, i swear.” she isn’t still hung up over jaebum. does she regret certain decisions that she made? obviously, but they’re now both in places better for them, so she doesn’t completely rue them.

 

“any plans of returning to the states?” calls joha sarcastically, and jiyol holds up and thumbs-up and tells them to go right ahead, she’ll be there.

 

“i feel like i’ll never be able to say this enough, and i don’t know how else to say it, but i’m sorry.” she gathers her bag and gives them one nod, like it’s a silent agreement that they can live in peace now. “goodbye.” it makes jiyol sad to the depths of her heart because the time she spent away from them was so rough, and she wishes she could’ve said so many things, but she can’t dwell on that now, so she turns and starts walking towards security.

 

it’s a second goodbye. it may be so much more peaceful but it still breaks her heart. goodbyes are supposed to be sad. she feels tears pricking at the back of her eyes. she thinks longingly of a world where she never had to say goodbye to them, because though the pain in her has now dulled, it’ll never truly go away.

 

“noona!”

 

jiyol turns at the voice, and watches youngjae take long strides towards her, the others standing a little away, staggered by youngjae’s sudden actions. youngjae walks up and gives her a hug. the tears hit her then.

 

“you’re not a mistake in  _ anyone’s  _ life. i’m proud to know you, and i’m positive that he is too,” assures youngjae, and jiyol buries her head in his shoulder, beginning to cry freely. for real? she hadn’t even crossed the three-year mark yet! youngjae holds jiyol tight for a few more seconds until jinyoung taps him gently on the shoulder, and takes his turn to hug jiyol.

 

“don’t cry, baby, don’t cry,” he coos, the way she used to when he was crying. “you’ll make me cry.” jiyol laughs and hits his chest at the imitation. “no, for real, you will make me cry, jiyol, do you want to see me cry?”

 

“no,” she whispers into jinyoung’s chest, and he holds her like one would hold a baby. he kisses the top of her head and promises, “we’re going to keep talking, okay? i’ll call you, you call me, even if it’s in the middle of the night. this is why you gave me your number. we’re not making any dumb mistakes this time. we’re never saying goodbye again.”

 

“i love you, jinyoungie,” she says in the spur of the moment. she’s always loved him as though they shared blood. yes, initially she wished for him to hate her, but now she knows that if that had ever happened, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself now.

 

“of course i love you too.” jinyoung threatens to spin jiyol around but she plants her heels firmly in the ground, laughing with relief and just plain, plain adoration.

 

and jinyoung releases her, jiyol turns to jaebum, hoping for one forgiving smile, just one, but is surprised when he holds his arms out for a hug. “really?” she asks, just to confirm that jinyoung did not make him promise to do this. he actually seems like he wants the hug, so jiyol takes it. he pats her head gently, being a whole two inches taller than her. “i still love you, you know?”

 

jiyol never really stopped loving him either. there’s that lingering attachment that never goes away with certain people, and jaebum is definitely one of those people in her life. “i still love you too, but i’m glad we’re not together anymore.”

 

“me too,” says jaebum, like they’ve finally come to terms with it.

 

“besides,” smiles jiyol, her face tearstained and eyes red. “you got yourself a pretty sweet deal.”

 

jaebum smiles over in the direction that jiyol is looking. youngjae is saying something to jinyoung and laughing. jiyol can sense the softness radiating off jaebum, can hear the whispers of years of memories, both past and future, and can feel the weight of love and attachment all from the look in jaebum’s eye. he’s happy. he’s really  _ happy.  _ that’s all she ever wanted for him.

 

she laments over many things in her life, but now she actually has her best friends back.

 

that’s really all she ever needed.

 

==

 

— **_15 MAY  
_ **

**_20:55_ **

  
  


“repeat after me. i am a fucking idiot.”

 

mark looks at ana dully. “i am a fucking idiot,” he repeats obediently.

 

“and i managed to screw everything up because i was selfish.”

 

“i managed to screw everything up because i was selfish.”

 

“i did everything i shouldn’t have.”

 

mark repeats, and then turns to jackson who’s leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “remind me why she’s here again?”

 

“jackson called me and told me everything because he figured i’d be the only one who can get through to you because he’s too much of a coward to tell you that you’re being the dumbest human being on the planet,” says ana plainly, anger radiating from her eyes.

 

“hey!” exclaims jackson. “i’m not a coward. i just happen to think that he’d be more likely to take you seriously. i know what i’m good at and what i’m not. that’s why i wanted you to handle this one. besides, i can't take this anymore, mark," he says, shaking his head. ”you need to man up. or considering the fact that ana would rise to the this situation better than either of us, i'd say you have to woman up."  


 

ana nods, a small smile rippling across her face before, shifting her eyes to mark so fast and with such vexation that her braid flips to the side and mark flinches violently. “repeat again. i fucked up, big time.”

 

“i fucked up, big time.” mark can’t even begin to argue with any of this. it’s true. it’s all true. the guilt has been eating him alive. how can he do any of this? how can he live with himself when he knows he’s hurting jinyoung?

 

“does admitting any of that make you feel better?” asks ana, voice softening slightly.

 

“yes,” admits mark. he feels like he’s finally being honest with himself now.

 

“well, that wasn’t the intention,” snaps ana, and jackson grins at how fast she changed expressions. “it was supposed to make you feel worse to the extent that you realize that some major grovelling is in order for you to win that boy back.”

 

“i know that,” says mark morosely. “and i will make things right.”

 

“know that i will continue talking to you only if you fix things,” informs ana sternly, crossing her arms. she picks up her backpack. “you do want to fix things, right?”

 

“of course i do!” bursts mark. “i promise i will.” having ana mad at him makes him feel even worse, because ana is so fair and level-headed and in general, a very neutral person, and he has fucked up enough to turn her against him.

 

“you better,” glares ana. “am i done here, jackson?”

 

jackson holds up a thumbs-up. “yeah, he needed that.”

 

mark’s mood has never been lower, but his resolve has never been stronger.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and the jiyol drama is finally cleared up :")  
> i like to call this chapter the ode to the female ocs :D i love my girls like i love my boys, and in both cases, too much to be healthy  
> ahhh there's only one chapter left + the epilogue and both are coming in two days :> i can't believe how close i am to finishing my first actual chaptered fic :')
> 
> i hope y'all are having a great day and drinking lots of water !! i love you all !! <33


	21. Chapter 21

— **_16 MAY_ **

**_5:34_ **

  
  


mark wakes up with a start when a large lump of something named jackson wang lands on him. he grunts in pain, then pushes jackson away and tells him to fuck off because it’s barely light out and without the sunlight, mark shall not wake.

 

“check your mail, bitch, check your mail!” screeches jackson, directly in mark’s ear, prompting mark to begin mentally engineering various violent ways to murder jackson and hide the body. “results are today!”

 

a flood of adrenaline enters mark’s blood as he shoots up, fishing his phone out from under his pillow and opening his email with shaking fingers. “did you make it?” asks mark as he waits for his email to refresh, cursing the shit wifi they have to deal with.

 

jackson looks equally apprehensive as mark’s phone still refuses to behave. “yeah, i did. just barely made it,” he says, but in a tone rather muted because mark’s status is—at this instant—still indeterminate.

 

the email loads on mark’s phone and his heart is beating so fast that he can feel it in his temples. he attempts to read the words but they’re all too blurry to make out so he holds the phone an inch away from his eyes, waiting for the letters to focus before he starts reading. he skips the initial waffle and looks straight at the marksheet.

 

“jackson,” he whispers disbelievingly, because even after reading it over five times, he’s not trusting his own eyes. (for good reason, his eyes haven’t been very reliable in the past. hence, his glasses.) “i crossed the cut-off by forty marks.”

 

jackson lets out a happy yell and pulls mark to his feet, where they jump up and down on the mattress like jubilant puppies, hollering at the top of their voices. “we’re staying together for another two years!” yells jackson. “this calls for a celebration! let’s go out to eat!” typical jackson. when a celebration is in order, he wants to eat. mark can’t say anything because he’s just as bad.

 

after that, every sentence that jackson utters is punctuated with an exclamation mark, and even mark finds himself stopping every few minutes and just letting out a liberated laugh. the universe isn’t completely out to get him, after all. he did it. he really did it. he feels like he deserves one of those golden star stickers and a good pat on his back. it all paid off, he should really tell—

 

mark stops short at that thought. is it not true that jinyoung indirectly played a huge role in all of this? it was jinyoung who had made that time-table, that mark made sure to follow secretly even after he stopped talking to him. it was jinyoung’s meeting with ana that resulted in ana offering to help mark. it was jinyoung who’d chided him and taken care of him when he was sick. jinyoung was one of the few—and one of the strongest—reasons that mark wanted to say on to do his master’s degree in the same college.

 

he should tell jinyoung. it would be the right thing to do.

 

but mark can’t pick up the nerve to text him. text him? what kind of stupid idea is that, anyway? even jackson tells him that it’s stupid. mark promises himself that he’ll meet jinyoung later, that he’ll explain himself completely, that he’ll take every word that’s thrown his way because he knows he deserves all that and worse. in his state of absolute elation, he’s out to fix all the mistakes he’s made, especially the ones he never should’ve made in the first place.

 

they walk to café 247 for breakfast. mark hasn’t been there since a week before his exam. he took time off even after the exam just so he could take a well-deserved break, and this is the first time he’s setting foot in the café in a couple weeks.

 

they bump into bambam as they’re entering the café, and bambam shrieks because he hasn’t seen mark in a million billion years and tackle-hugs him. mark is surprised by the gesture, because bambam isn’t really a hugger, but hugs back regardless. “you’re happy today, bammie.” he finds it rather adorable. bambam acts like he’s high all the time with his dabbing and meme referencing and bottle flipping but this happiness is completely human, a lot deeper, and a hundred-percent authentic and sane.

 

“am i  _ ever! _ ” grins bambam, laughing giddily, the way mark and jackson have been chortling for the last half an hour. “junmyeon hyung is an angel!”

 

“yeah, that’s common knowledge, but what has that got to do with your happiness?” asks mark, curious.

 

“okay, so you remember when i told you that i was fighting with my mom because she didn’t like what i wanted to do with my life?” without waiting for an answer, he goes on. “either way, she said she couldn’t afford to send me to a design college because she wanted me to do something more worthwhile with my life. and junmyeon hyung, highest-ranking fairy godmother without the dress and wand, secretly mailed off some of my work to one of the design colleges that i really wanted to get into, along with a letter. they agreed to take me in on a fucking scholarship, mark, and junmyeon hyung clinched that for me. he did that for me. he even came home to speak to my mom and convinced her to let me go.” he bites his lip in suppressed excitement and a feeling of too immense to be expressed. “he’s just… i feel like i found a parent in him.”

 

that sentence hits mark in the heart, because while he grew up with both his parents, bambam only grew up with one. he’s so happy for him, he truly is. it’s a day for happiness all around, and mark and jackson each hug bambam once more before he has to leave, and mark mentally sends a couple thank yous to whoever is up there. a thank you for taking care of him. a thank you for taking care of jackson. a thank you for taking care of bambam.

 

the café smells of cinnamon, coffee, familiarity and icing, and mark guesses that yixing must be baking today. he instantly starts craving some cupcakes. he’s missed yixing’s cupcakes. he walks up to the counter, the lack of a line due to the fact that the sun has barely risen, and nayeon smiles at him. “welcome back, shall i just tell junmyeon-sshi that you’re here?”

 

mark’s surprised, because junmyeon never stays after five in the morning, especially after that whole fight between him and yixing started. he mutely nods, and a minute later, junmyeon comes walking out of the backroom, apron and signature fatherly smile on as he walks towards their table. “mark!” he exclaims, ruffling the addressed’s hair in greeting. “and jackson! how are you guys? how were your exams?”

 

“we passed!” declares jackson happily, accessorizing the words with a squeal and a shimmy.

 

“that’s so great, i’m so proud of you!” he gives them both high-fives and laughs along when jackson narrates the incident where he wasn’t done with all his questions but time was up and he almost had to wrestle with his invigilator so that he could finish one more sum.

 

“we’ve missed you on the night shift,” says junmyeon. “it’s been quiet.”

 

“but it’s always quiet with me around,” reminds mark with a smile. he’s missed them too.

 

“it’s been...quieter, then. especially since bam and gyeom switched to the day shift for a while,” explains junmyeon. “i’m awkward around new people, so i wasn’t exactly able to initiate conversations with taeyoon. and he’s such a nice kid, so i felt even worse.”

 

mark’s smile wavers slightly at the mention of taeyoon. taeyoon had suggested a couple days ago over text that they could maybe go out for a movie or something over the weekend and mark had found himself in a position to clarify that he couldn’t be to taeyoon what the younger wanted. it hurt him to put it that way, but mark had had to set the record straight and for once he understood what speaking up quick enough could do, because taeyoon had sent him a breezy text telling him not to worry about it, and that being friends suited him just fine, because he thankfully hadn’t caught major feelings yet.

 

“aww, hyung,” chuckles jackson, hitting junmyeon’s arm. “you’re awkward? who would’ve guessed?”

 

“i heard what you did for bam, that was really sweet of you.” mark realizes that  _ really sweet  _ doesn’t even begin to cover it, but he’s not very good with words. words aren’t his thing. they’re more… someone else’s.

 

“ah, that was nothing. you know i wanted to be a fashion designer at one point of time?” reveals junmyeon, laughing softly. mark’s and jackson’s eyes widen, and they shake their head. “yeah, for a while, i was pretty serious, but it didn’t work out for me. but bam, dear god, that kid is going places.”

 

“we need more people like you in the world, hyung,” says jackson sincerely, and junmyeon waves him off with an embarrassed smile.

 

“what have you kids been up to?”

 

“well, mark’s been working on his photo editing like a maniac the last few days, like he’s compensating for the months that he’s neglected it,” announces jackson in a manner reminiscent to a proud mother hen. “you should check out his blog sometime, i’ll send you a link.”

 

“ah, shut up,” says mark quickly. editing pictures and making gifs are his two favorite hobbies, and though he didn’t really have time for it this semester, he decided to get back in the game, and his followers have welcomed him back, providing him with even more motivation. he still doesn’t understand how anyone likes his work, though, but jackson hypes it like mark could win an award with his creations.

 

“cupcakes up!” announces yixing, walking up to their table with a plate of cupcakes decorated in six different colors.

 

mark automatically tenses, waiting for things to get awkward, for junmyeon to walk away or something, but junmyeon points to the cupcakes, and says, in a deathly grave voice, “is that chocolate mint icing i spy?”

 

yixing grins in affirmation, and junmyeon swipes one cupcake off the plate. “sorry, boys, chocolate mint icing cannot be passed on, especially when  _ someone _ ”—he pauses to playfully glare at yixing—“barely ever makes it.”

 

“you ask for it too often,” complains yixing, rolling his eyes. “i refuse to let anyone get bored of my food. keep it fresh and exciting, you know what i mean?” he asks mark and jackson, who excitedly nod, mouths full and lips lined with cupcake crumbs and icing.

 

“please make some more,” pleads junmyeon, nibbling on the cupcake in his hand, and as yixing laughs and leaves, he turns back to mark and jackson. “anything you kids want, on the house for today.”

 

“for tomorrow?” asks mark, smiling sneakily.

 

“i’m hoping you’ll be back at work,” retorts junmyeon.

 

a pause. “hyung,” mark is rather apprehensive, not wanting to make assumptions, “are you and yixing hyung—?”

 

junmyeon hesitates for a couple seconds before he realizes that mark would’ve obviously told jackson. “we’re fine now. getting back to civil ground and becoming friends again. we’ve kind of… accepted things.”

 

mark grins so wide that he feels like his face is splitting in two. what did he figure? they’re junmyeon and yixing, after all. best of best friends. things turned out alright in the end.

 

“things always get better if you make an effort,” muses junmyeon, shooting mark a significant look, that jackson catches and nods with. “have you—?”

 

“not yet,” says mark quickly. “i was thinking of maybe talking to him later today, i don’t know.”

 

jackson glares. “no, don’t worry,” he says lightly to junmyeon. “he knows. i won’t let him forget.”

 

apparently, jackson is not the only one who’s dead set on not letting mark  _ forget  _ to talk to jinyoung. around lunch time, mark gets a text on his phone.

 

_ hey, it’s youngjae. could you come meet me & jaebum @ kim’s café in about 15 mins? if you have the time :) _

 

jackson looks over while mark is reading the text and tells him that he should go. seriously, no more excuses. mark, feeling guilty enough by now, agrees, and so he finds himself walking to kim’s café, hands in his pockets and appreciating the weather that’s finally warm, even if the humidity is getting a bit much to handle. he figures that he’s going to get told off, and even though he’s gotten it once from ana, he knows he deserves another dose.

 

youngjae and jaebum are sitting on the same side of the booth, jaebum’s arm casually draped over the back of youngjae’s chair. they seem to be having a conversation, which gets abruptly cut off when mark walks in. they both smile at him, and while jaebum’s is a little warmer than youngjae’s, youngjae’s smile can barely be described as warm in the first place.

 

“sit,” says youngjae, making it sound more like an order than an invitation. “how were your exams?”

 

“good,” says mark tentatively, pulling on his fingers already. something about the way that youngjae is being deathly calm is scaring the shit out of him. “i passed, staying on for my master’s degree at n.u.a.s.t.”

 

“that’s great!” exclaims jaebum, and while youngjae gives him another smile and congratulations, they are no less unsettling that the initial smile.

 

“it’s nice to see you happy, you know,” starts youngjae, and his smile becomes a little more genuine. mark begins to relax before youngjae vocalizes his next thoughts. “but if we weren’t in a public setting, i would probably put you under six feet right here, right now.”

 

mark’s already unsteady smile slips off his face completely, but youngjae’s has not wavered the slightest. “what?”

 

jaebum places his hand on youngjae’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “calm down, sunshine.” although he doesn’t really seem to care if youngjae calms down, but rather finds this very amusing. it’s more an expression of support.

 

youngjae shrugs his hand off, still smiling that smile. “no, i do not think that is a possibility to consider. let me get this straight, mark tuan,” youngjae says his name with such venom that mark shrinks away in fear, not even bothering to remind him that he is older and therefore deserves at least a pittance of respect. “you have liked jinyoung for how long now?”

 

“since we met,” admits mark guiltily, figuring there’s no point to hiding anything now.

 

“i see. we were going to drag jackson here as well, maybe beat him up a bit for lying to us, but i decided that you would be the easier one to slap.” mark wants to gasp in horror because the thought of youngjae slapping him is simply unfathomable. youngjae doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly. “did you know that he never told us that you liked jinyoung? ever? we were in on a plan to get you guys together!”

 

“first of all,” mark starts. “that wasn’t your job.”

 

“would you have tried to stop us?” challenges youngjae, raising an eyebrow. goddamn people and their uni-eyebrow-raises.

 

mark stares at youngjae. “no.”

 

jaebum’s hand is back on youngjae’s shoulder, rubbing small circles of comfort and encouragement with his fingers. “you’re getting that murderous look, jae. just chew him out already.” mark doesn’t appreciate how chill jaebum is being with all this. mark is literally dying here. admitted, he brought this on himself, but he could use just the slightest bit of help, okay? but jaebum seems to be the one reason that youngjae isn’t going complete rage inferno mode right here, so in a way, mark is thankful to have him there.

 

“how dare you?” asks youngjae, with no context, no explanation, nothing. how dare mark what? there are a lot of things that mark could be asked that question for. youngjae should be a little bit more specific.

 

mark blinks wordlessly.

 

youngjae’s smile finally morphs into a scowl. “how dare you walk in like that, gain my best friend’s trust to the extent that he tells you everything—and i mean, everything! i know jinyoung hyung, and once he decides to confide in someone, he will tell them  _ everything.  _ and he even trusts you to the fucking extent of telling you about jiyol—that’s right, i swore, don’t look so scandalized, jaebum—and you just walked away like that! how fucking dare you? knowing all the shit that he’s been through, how could you do that to him?” rants youngjae passionately, sticking his fist to his palm when he felt emphasis was warranted.

 

and mark doesn’t even know how to answer, because these are the exact thoughts that have run through his head numerous times, and even though he’s thought over this more times than he can count, he doesn’t have an answer, and his defenses are weaker than jackson’s humility index. he’s gotten all this once from ana, but this feels ten times worse at least, because somehow this feels a lot more real. the anger in youngjae’s eyes, the protectiveness for jinyoung shining bright in his dark irises.

 

youngjae isn’t finished. “jinyoung hyung is one of the kindest people i have ever met in my whole life, and i don’t think i’ll ever meet someone as nice as him ever again.” jaebum lets out a little “hey!” at this point, but youngjae basically ignores him. “he’ll pretend he hates you to your face, making these sarcastic comments and talking about how his life would be better if he didn’t have to deal with you, but he is such a softie and i know you know that. you know the time when he liked you? he’d come back from the café, or your place—wherever the fuck he’s been spending time with you—with this starry-eyed look like you were his whole goddamn world. it was awful, because we never knew that you actually liked him back. i mean, jaebum hyung guessed, but we had no confirmation.”

 

“he liked me?” asks mark. wait, this whole shutting out thing started because it was clear that jinyoung would  _ not  _ like him back. and jinyoung… liked him back?  _ liked  _ him back? as in, past tense?

 

“of course he liked you! could you not see it? his heart was fucking pouring out of his ears! and he’s such an idiot when he likes someone. he’ll see the line he has to cross, and he’ll walk all the way to the line, comment on how how nicely it’s been drawn, comment on everything else, but he’ll never fucking cross the line. he’ll reach over, but he won’t cross the line himself. he’ll expect the other person to notice.”

 

_ he’ll reach over, but he won’t cross the line himself.  _ suddenly, it all makes sense. when jinyoung had mark trapped against the kitchen counter, mark should’ve noticed how much jinyoung wanted to kiss him, but how he couldn’t just bring himself to do that. but mark had just been too wrapped up in his own paranoid feelings to realize that. “and i didn’t.”

 

“you stopped talking to him, like the greatest idiot ever. do you know what kind of hell you put him through? he was updating that fic of his while we were at work, just constantly writing because that’s how he deals with this shit! and the chapters were so angsty, i could not deal. have some respect for my feelings too, why don’t you?” grouches youngjae.

 

mark scratches his forehead, wondering what to say. it’s true, jinyoung was updating at all kinds of weird times. mark had those fics saved to his library. he was reading them a couple days ago and wondering how jinyoung could spin a story like that out of thin air. jinyoung is such a great writer, it just blew mark’s mind. or maybe he was just biased. maybe both. “sorry.”

 

“yeah, you better be. his sleeping problems came back and he was acting like none of this even bothered him, like he’d just get used to not having you around, and that’s what got me. he’s been hurt by too many people and i thought—” youngjae takes a deep breath, and jaebum squeezes his shoulder. “i trusted you to not hurt him, and he did too. he didn’t like being proven wrong, which is why he acted like nothing was off. he’d been hurt by so many people that this time, he knew the symptoms we’d be looking out for, and tried to evade that. i am so mad at you, mark tuan.”

 

jaebum gently strokes the back of youngjae’s neck, almost looking proud that youngjae’s chewing mark out like this. “you good?”

 

“nearly.” youngjae manages a small smile for a second before looking carefully at mark. “look, i’m not trying to guilt you into talking to him, i swear. i’m not trying to make you feel bad. it’s just… jinyoung hyung means so much to me, and he’s done so much for me, and i just feel awful standing by and watching him pine away like this. give him enough time—and i’m saying a  _ lot  _ of time—and he’ll get over it. hell, he’ll even forgive you, that’s how soft he is. but can you understand where i’m coming from here? i just needed to get this out. i know you’d never stand by and watch jackson’s heart be broken.”

 

“listen,” starts mark, and his voice feels a little funny, like he hasn’t used it properly in a while. “i was going to talk to him today. i swear, even before you texted me, youngjae. i have been the worst person to him, but look at it from my point of view, even if my actions weren’t completely justified. i had caught major feelings for him, and he wasn’t making it easy for me.”

 

“oh,” says youngjae, and his voice is a little softer. “see, this would’ve been easier if jackson had just told us that you liked him too. things would’ve gotten solved then.”

 

“i think he just wanted me to do something about it myself,” guesses mark with a bitter chuckle, thinking that that would be exactly like jackson. “and i did do something. the exact wrong thing. i thought he’d never like me back.”

 

“please, have you seen how easily he falls?” scoffs jaebum. “but in all honesty, i’ve never seen him fall this hard.”

 

“why’d you have to say it like that? you’re making him sound like an absolute hoe,” chides youngjae.

 

“alright, sunshine, i apologize.” mark finds the nickname that jaebum has for youngjae a little… very, very cute. and jaebum has his heart pouring out of his ears too. is that how jinyoung looks when he talks about him? because that’s pretty close to what mark looks like when he’s thinking about jinyoung. “you get what i mean,” corrects jaebum.

 

“i do,” nods mark. “look, i’m still going to go talk to him. i felt like the most awful human being on the planet. and…” he feels a little embarrassed admitting this out loud. “... all this time staying away from him has hurt me too. i don’t like staying away from him. he’s all that you said, honestly.”

 

“you have such heart eyes,” comments youngjae, leaning against jaebum’s side and observing mark with a maternal gaze.

 

mark pretends to glare. “i just need to figure out what to say. will he even forgive me?”

 

“i think you’ll decide the answer to that,” says youngjae. “decide what to say, and make it good. don’t be another person to make him lose his faith in humanity. and just… don’t be afraid. he likes you too. a bit much, in my opinion.”

 

mark racks his brains for a good two hours, figuring out different things to say and rejecting all possibilities one by one. the number of hypothetical conversations has crossed a limit where he can’t keep track anymore, and jackson is sitting on the mattress opposite the one he is currently sprawled out on, sipping organic green tea. 

 

“do you need any help?” asks jackson for the seventh time. youngjae and jaebum chewed him out over text, and now he’s taken it upon himself to help mark with his confession planning because it’s his fault that the confession is this delayed in the first place.

 

“no,” gripes mark. “i’m doing completely fine.”

 

“you’re overthinking this shit. just go up to him and be honest,” sighs jackson. “and maybe get him like a little apology-slash-confession gift. that really helps. and it’s just nice.”

 

“jackson!” exclaims mark, suddenly sitting up. “you’re a genius and i love you!”

 

jackson raises his mug in mark’s direction. “words you can never say too often.”

 

in fifteen minutes, mark finds himself at march n’ more, a very amused youngjae opening the door for him. “good afternoon, how may i help you?”

 

“i’m here to buy this hogwarts pin, the limited edition one,” declares mark, enjoying the way youngjae’s face lights up.

 

the younger squeals. “hyung! that’s such a perfect apology gift! lucky for you, we have just two left in stock.” he smiles, complete and genuine. “you’re a smart man, hyung.”

 

“i still don’t know what to say, though,” worries mark, pulling on his fingers again.

 

“are you going to see him now?” asks youngjae, as he begins wrapping up the small box with the pin, treating it as though it’s a royal wedding ring. mark nods, and youngjae pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. “listen. he’s just going to be happy to see you. just say what’s on your mind, but phrase it right, okay? at least to a certain extent. ‘i love you’ is too raw and straightforward,” teases youngjae.

 

mark laughs softly at that. “you’re right. i’ll figure it out.”

 

mark decides to take the walk to jinyoung’s apartement, figuring he can use the time to think of what to say. but then again, it’s not like he’s made much progress in the last six hours, so what good will ten extra minutes do him?  _ maybe i can just kiss jinyoung as he opens the door. that’s a funny thought. just as he opens the door, i can kiss jinyoung and _ —

 

_ kiss… jinyoung. _

 

it happens in a fraction of a second, a blinding pain that vanishes as quickly as it comes, and mark is suddenly back at the silver star, blinding light burning his retinas cone by cone, rod by rod, and he’s talking to...jinyoung? jinyoung was at wurin’s birthday party? mark barely remembers anything from that night. he got  _ so  _ drunk.

 

the memories come back at a startling speed, fading in and out of focus, and mark can’t even begin to comprehend half the things that he forgot. jinyoung was there. jinyoung said he liked him. jinyoung. fucking. kissed. him.

 

mark whips out his phone. he needs an explanation, and he needs one now.

 

==

 

— **_16 MAY_ **

**_15:03_ **

  
  


jinyoung’s fingers are flying over the keyboard at an inhuman speed, at least as compared to his usual rate. he suddenly had an idea that would change the entire course of his fic, but it’s so ingenious that he has to note it down and analyse how this affects the chapters, the flow of the story, etc. etc. 

 

when the phone rings, he just doesn’t want to pick it up. it’s like things seem to want to interrupt him only when he wants to write. “what is it, youngjae?” he asks exasperatedly. “i’m working.”

 

“ _ bitch! _ ” whisper-squeals youngjae, trying to keep his voice down so that minseok doesn’t hear him. “ _ okay. alert, alert, alert. mark hyung walked in and fucking  _ bought  _ the hogwarts limited edition pin for you, hyung,  _ you! _ and he’s on the way over to the apartment to fucking tell you that he likes you! can you sense my dying? can you? _ ”

 

jinyoung’s heart decides that this is an appropriate moment to accelerate like a fucking maniac on an empty highway. “what? youngjae, tell me you’re fucking kidding me.  _ tell  _ me you’re kidding.” he’s drowning in his oversized hoodie and his feelings that his undersized heart is not equipped to handle.

 

“ _ no, i’m serious. i just… god, i’m so excited. don’t freak out, okay? do  _ not  _ freak out! _ ” warns youngjae, and jinyoung wants to tell him that  _ no,  _ he is  _ definitely  _ freaking out, but it’s such a good freak out feeling that he doesn’t mind that his palms are sweating and that his cheeks are getting so warm with anticipation that he’s probably going to overheat and die.

 

“hang on, i’m getting another call,” says jinyoung, putting youngjae on hold and switching calls.

 

“ _ park motherfucking jinyoung. _ ”

 

definitely the right voice. definitely sober. definitely very, very mad at him.

 

“hello,” says jinyoung coolly, trying to contain his emotions to prevent them from leaching into his words. “what’s up? been a while since you decided to speak to m—”

 

“ _ did you  _ actually  _ kiss me when i was drunk? _ ” asks mark immediately.

 

and jinyoung is so taken aback that he bursts out laughing.

 

“ _ jinyoung! i need an answer! what possessed you to do that? why would you do that? are you an idiot? _ ” mark’s words are running into each other and he’s stuttering between sentences.

 

“oh,  _ you’re  _ calling me an idiot?” asks jinyoung defensively. “you’re the one who hasn’t talked to me for a whole fucking  _ month! _ ”

 

“ _ i was on my way to explain that! i was on my way to explain myself. god, jinyoung, why did you take me seriously when i said i wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning? _ ”

 

“your drunk self was acting so much more sensible than your sober self, you should’ve seen, honestly,” chuckles jinyoung at the memory. “it was delectable entertainment. of the highest quality.”

 

a silence. “ _ do you still like my sober self? _ ” he sounds so panicky, so afraid of receiving a negative answer.

 

jinyoung sighs. he doesn’t want to do this over the phone. “where are you?”

 

“ _ downstairs, walking towards your apartment building, _ ” says mark, and jinyoung basically runs to the balcony, phone in his hand.

 

sure enough, he can see a familiar mop of caramel locks stomping his way towards the building, spectacled eyes trying to spot the occupied balcony he’s looking for. the giddiness in just  _ seeing  _ mark makes jinyoung’s emotions bubble and spill over, prompting a very impulsive decision.

 

“MARK TUAN!” jinyoung yells at the top of his voice, and mark’s eyes snap to his.

 

“WHAT?” yells back mark, and jinyoung can hear the echo from his phone.

 

“I LOVE YOU!” 

 

saying it out loud feels so freeing, so truthful, so personal, and jinyoung sinks to his knees, covering his face with his hands.

 

jinyoung hears the reply from his phone. “i’m on my way up.” he gets up and trudges to the door, opening it when he hears a quiet knock. mark looks like he’s just run up all the flights of stairs, with a sheepish smile on his face and a crimson swept over his cheeks. “did you mean that?”

 

“no, i just like saying things i don’t mean,” snarks jinyoung, rolling his eyes. he shoves mark’s chest. “of course i meant it!”

 

“i just…” mark runs his fingers through his hair. “i…”

 

“spit it out, for fuck’s sake,” says jinyoung impatiently. quite frankly, mark is being annoying and jinyoung’s earned the right to be peevish. “at this rate, the end credits will start rolling because everyone will get bored of your procrastination.”

 

“i’m trying to come up with the least cliché way to tell you that i love you too,” explains mark lamely, and jinyoung nods slowly.

 

“you know, saying it that way was not cliché, in a way,” he points out, trying not to give away the fact that he feels so buoyant he may as well be made of air right now. “but i’m still mad at you, you know,” he adds quietly, because a month’s worth of questioning and sadness does not immediately get solved like that. except when it does, but jinyoung has to at least  _ try  _ to be angry and not act like he’s ready to melt in a puddle at mark’s feet out of such dizzying euphoria.

 

“you have all the right to be,” says mark defeatedly, as he walks in and jinyoung closes the door behind him. “i have been the worst. do you know why i stopped talking to you, though?”

 

jinyoung shrugs. “i guessed you just didn’t want to be around me anymore, because of the way i am?”

 

mark shoves his chest. “stop questioning your self-worth like that. that’s not the reason.”

 

“then?” jinyoung would like to hear this. after a month of overthinking himself to the end of thought itself, he wants to know.

 

“i have liked you for the longest time, you know? actually, you didn’t know,” jokes mark, before clearing his throat awkwardly and going on. “i’ve liked since like, the day i met you and i hated that we were  _ fake  _ boyfriends. you’d hug me and kiss my cheek and act like you liked being around me, and a paranoid part of me kept telling me that it was an act, that you would never feel that way about me. after a point, i really couldn’t take it anymore.”

 

“so you just… shut me out. great logic,” says jinyoung sarcastically.

 

“yah! i’m trying to be serious and honest with you here!” scolds mark, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you, i thought if i put some space between us, i would eventually stop liking you, because it was getting to a point where it was downright scaring me—”

 

“—but, the feelings didn’t go away, did they?” completes jinyoung, head tilted to the side.

 

“stop sounding so smug about it,” pouts mark. “but yeah, of course they didn’t go away. it got worse. also, did you give taeyoon my number?”

 

the smugness is replaced by guilt, plastered all over jinyoung’s face. “maybe.”

 

“what was your logic?” asks mark disbelievingly. “i simply do not understand.” 

 

“i thought he liked you a lot, and it wasn’t like you were my actual boyfriend or anything, so was it really my place to be possessive? no, it wasn’t.” jinyoung shrugs, looking at the ground. “and i’m a little stupid that way. i’m a little stupid in a lot of ways.”

 

“you’re not stupid. you just sometimes make bad decisions while thinking that you’re making the right ones,” assures mark.

 

jinyoung narrows his eyes in feigned anger. “so what you’re saying is...i’m stupid?”

 

“no, i’m not!” laughs mark. “it’s not like i make the best decisions anyway.”

 

“oh, tell me about it,” says jinyoung, rolling his eyes.

 

“there’s no proper excuse for me hurting you like that, cutting off contact because i was a selfish bastard who was too afraid of my own feelings,” admits mark seriously. “and i want you to know that… blueberries.” jinyoung can’t stop himself from smiling at the word as mark pulls a small box out of his pocket shyly. “i got you this, by the way. as an apology of sorts. not to buy your forgiveness or anything, just as gesture of… yeah.”

 

“i know, youngjae told me,” grins jinyoung. “i would say that i love you for that but i have a feeling that i’m going to be saying those words way too much from now on. you’re forgiven. you got off easy, but you’re going to spend time trying to make up for it.”

 

mark smiles, half in embarrassment and half in adoration. he’ll try his best to make up for it, and he isn’t going to stop trying. “okay,” he says quietly.

 

“okay,” nods jinyoung, smiling like they’re sharing a secret.

 

“okay,” echoes mark, imitating jinyoung’s posture and expression.

 

“we’re not turning into that couple, i’m sorry,” giggles jinyoung. “‘okay’ is not our ‘always’. ‘blueberries’ is our ‘always’.”

 

“‘blueberries’ is an alternative apology, why would that be our ‘always’?” enquires mark. “‘chocolate ice cream’ can be our ‘always’.”

 

jinyoung laughs, smile hidden behind his hand. “alright, ‘chocolate ice cream’ it is. and speaking of chocolate ice cream, i bought so many tubs of it when i wasn’t speaking to you.”

 

mark trails behind jinyoung to the kitchen. “you’re a real living cliché here.” 

 

jinyoung turns to respond but mark takes one more step forward so that jinyoung’s back comes in contact with the kitchen counter, his breath hitching in his throat.

 

“what do you expect me to do right now, jinyoungie?” whispers mark, leaning closer so that their noses are touching.

 

jinyoung giggles. “hopefully not kiss me on the cheek like that lame not-save that i tried to pull.”

 

“and at least i’m sober this time,” adds mark. he sounds slightly bitter. “i wanted to be sober enough when we kissed for the first time.”

 

“how long have you been thinking of kissing me?” asks jinyoung sneakily, heart thumping as he can feel mark’s breath ghosting over his lips.

 

“too long,” smiles mark, taking a step closer and reducing the space between them.

 

“then for the love of god, don’t kiss me here because the edge of the counter is digging into my back and it’s killing me,” complains jinyoung, killing the moment.

 

“you are an actual brat, why do i even deal with you?” groans mark, dragging a laughing jinyoung by the hood to the couch.

 

“because you  _ love  _ me,” sings jinyoung, as mark seats himself on his lap, hands gripping the neck of jinyoung’s hoodie.

 

“maybe i do,” accepts mark, kissing jinyoung’s cheek chastely.

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes, but mark lets his lips trail off jinyoung’s face and down his neck, making jinyoung laugh. “honestly, is this punishment?” wheezes out jinyoung between giggles. “stop exploiting my weakness like this!” but mark’s having too good a time, leaving kisses all over jinyoung’s neck and collarbones. his lips graze over jinyoung’s tattoo and he voices a thought, laughing.

 

“did you know tattoos taste like normal skin?”

 

“did you know that kissing you while you’re drunk tastes like alcohol?” shoots back jinyoung, red in the face and not just from laughing this much.

 

“honestly, you asked for it,” says mark, leaning closer and finally closing the gap between them.

 

kissing the sober version of mark, the actual version of mark, both feels and tastes so much better than kissing the drunk mark. it feels legitimately tangible this time, and not like some kind of lucid half-dream. jinyoung’s hands move up mark’s torso to cup his face, while mark wraps his arms around jinyoung’s neck, taking control of the kiss until both of them have to come up for air. it feels like drowning and being saved at the same time, like the breath of fresh air that you take when your head breaks the surface of the water, like it’s your assurance that you’re living.

 

“are we real boyfriends now?” clarifies mark, tracing jinyoung’s cheekbone with his thumb, looking at him so softly that jinyoung can’t help how large his smile is at all. he feels loved, and that combined with the feeling of loving is a little overwhelming. jinyoung likes it. being overwhelmed is his speciality.

 

“yep,” says jinyoung, placing a kiss on mark’s forehead affectionately. “no adjectives.”

 

the adjective itself had never been anything more than fake.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i came up with that ending line in the middle of the night and had to text it to myself so i wouldn't forget it in the morning  
> epilogue up in the next ten minutes, it's really over y'all ;(((


	22. Chapter 22

— **_16 JUNE_ **

**_7:32_ **

  
  


“yol, my woman!” jinyoung smiles as his best friend’s face appears on the screen. grainy and gitchy it may be, but it is still her. 

 

“ _ nyeong, my man! _ ” jiyol waves in greeting.

 

“how’s australia?” asks jinyoung, leaning back on the couch. it’s been a while since he talked to jiyol (read:  _ two days _ ) and he’s already stored away so much to tell her.

 

“ _ honestly, i’ve been walking on this country’s soil for less than an hour and i really love it more than i can express. _ ” jiyol shakes her head for emphasis. “ _ let me put it like this—key-smash, key-smash, key-smash, all caps key-smash. _ ”

 

jinyoung nods, grinning in understanding. “bring me back some tim-tams, will you? and maybe a nice t-shirt or something.”

 

jiyol shoots finger guns at the screen. “ _ i know what you like. _ ”

 

“i know you do.”

 

“ _ how did your end-sems go? all done? _ ” asks jiyol.

 

“i did fine, and i have hols until august, therefore i’m excited about that. hey, do you want to come with me to wake mark up? he’ll sleep for the rest of the day if i let him.”

 

“your face suggested that you were going to bring him up in your next two sentences. sure, why not?” jiyol and mark got along by ganging up on jinyoung. jinyoung had introduced mark to jiyol the day after kitchen counter encounter 2.0, and he regretted that ever since. it was like a repeat of the jaebum and jackson episode, only without the jealousy.

 

jinyoung walks over to the bedroom, phone in hand. jackson slept over at wurin’s apartment the previous night so his mattress is empty, and mark is sprawled out and wrapped in blankets on his own mattress.

 

jinyoung puts a finger to his lips and puts a hand on mark’s bare shoulder, as though to wake him gently. then, all mercy abandoned, jinyoung shakes mark’s shoulder violently, an instruction given by mark himself to make sure that he didn’t sleep in too late. “yah,” mumbles mark sleepily. “go away.”

 

“nuh-uh, wake up,” says jinyoung. “jiyol’s here, too.”

 

mark lifts his head slightly, blinking around the room like a confused owl until he spots the phone in jinyoung’s hand, turning to face it. “oh, hi, joella.” mark has his deep, rough morning voice on, and that still has an effect on jinyoung, no matter how many times he hears it. and yes, mark is the only one who calls jiyol ‘joella’, which jinyoung still can’t pronounce right.

 

“hey, mark,” chirps jiyol and jinyoung adjusts the blankets to cover up a bit more of mark’s skin as the older sits up. “how’re you doing?”

 

mark holds up a sleepy peace symbol, burying his head in jinyoung’s shoulder. “go and take a shower. we’re going to have breakfast with the others and then we’re going to thrill zone,” instructs jinyoung, his hand ruffling mark’s bed-head affectionately.

 

mark whines in protest but gets up and leaves the room anyway,and jiyol waits until she has jinyoung’s complete attention again before she says, in a conspiratorial voice, “wow, jinyoung, and here i was thinking you were going to die a virgin.”

  
jinyoung whines in mortification. “what do you mean? the weather is just really warm now, there’s nothing wrong with not wearing a shirt.” he hopes he doesn’t sound as guilty as he thinks he does.

 

“right, because the red marks on his collar bones were just sunburns, right?” jiyol nods sarcastically. “sure, sure.”

 

“i’m hanging up on you now,” threatens jinyoung, and jiyol starts laughing at him, cooing about how her little baby isn’t all that virtuous and unsullied anymore.

 

they chat idly about what jinyoung is planning for the holidays (nothing, really, he just wants to go home for a while and maybe just spend the rest of his time catching up on k-dramas or something—youngjae had a few recommendations) and jiyol’s australia conference (“ah, the diversity here is off the charts! i love it! also i’m going to—”, “you are aware you are there for work, right?”), as well as how chaemi and youngjae and jaebum are doing (chaemi has started learning the concept of ratios and proportions from jiyol, and she’s using it to show off with her friends; youngjae has a concert coming up in two weeks and he’s been practising non-stop; jaebum is thinking about taking up b-boying again) and whether jiyol is planning on visiting south korea soon (“patience, kid. i’ll try. i promise. only if australia lets me leave, though.”), all until mark walks into the room again, showered and fresh.

 

“okay, you’re distracted again,” grins jiyol. “i’ll see myself out. catch you later, jirongie.” and she ends the call.

 

“this sneaky little—” curses jinyoung, throwing his phone aside as mark laughs at him, flopping down on the mattress and rolling over so that he’s draped over jinyoung.

 

“sleep well?” asks jinyoung casually, and mark gives him a sly grin, pushing jinyoung’s bangs out of his eyes. “i caught what sleep i was allowed.”

 

jinyoung’s cheeks turn red, for the morning-after version of him is acutely different (and much more prone to discomfiture) as compared to the night-before version. he’s going to have to get used to this. ”’mkay.”

 

“ah, you being embarrassed is hilarious. if i really wanted to torture you i would not change the subject,” teases mark, playfully petting jinyoung’s hair. “but i will, because i am compassionate that way. we’re going to thrill zone today?”

 

“yep, youngjae said it was to celebrate the conclusion of the semester.”

 

“don’t yell at any other strangers in line, okay?” warns mark faux-seriously, laying his head against jinyoung’s chest. “i’ll get jealous.”

 

jinyoung rolls his eyes. “and don’t go blurting out to people that you’re gay, okay?”

 

“right, don’t tell people i’m gay when my boyfriend is literally standing right next to me. got it, that makes so much sense.” since when did mark start out-sassing him? jinyoung shakes his head in disbelief.

 

“what makes sense is me being your actual boyfriend this time,” jinyoung says with an amused half-smile, like he still isn’t used to saying that. he smiles as mark props his head up to respond, a grin that makes his face light up. “honestly, fake boyfriends to actual boyfriends? and it took us the long, drama-filled journey to get here?”

 

“we’re both a living cliché!” announces mark, pretending to throw confetti.

 

jinyoung laughs at that, eyes scrunched up with crinkles forming around them as he tries to cover his smile with his hands, only for mark to drag his hands away from his face and tell him that smiles like his shouldn’t be hidden. yeah, maybe they are a living cliché.

 

and hey, happy endings are cliché too, but jinyoung wouldn’t trade his for the world.

 

==

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /emotional author's note up ahead you have been warned/
> 
> first of all, if you are reading this, i love you. thank you for reading this story, this long shitfest of feelings and more feelings. it means a lot to me that anyone would ever read this, considering that i never thought anyone would ever get to read this.  
> this fic means a lot to me for many different reasons. this is the first got7 fic i ever started writing, and the chaptered fic, and it was actually supposed to be a oneshot. i wasn't supposed to post any of this online (i had to get to a point where i had to say 'fuck the rules' and just start posting my work, dammit) and i thought that it would be years before i got to share any of my work. i uploaded the first chapter when i was in a really bad place, and every time i uploaded a new chapter and read your comments, my motivation to write got stronger. thank you for the love you have shown this book.  
> a huge thank you to every reader, to every person who left a comment. you made my days better and i can't thank you enough for that. i can't believe this fic is finally ending, but writing it was a lovely journey, and this fic actually helped my deal with my own problems, as well as understand others better.  
> that's all the emotion i can generally get out before i start cringing so yeah i'm stopping now. i hope y'all have many great days and know that i love you all with my whole arm ^^  
> (also i have both the past and the future of this universe completely planned out so y'all are free to ask me about anything :) also i'm planning to write side stories for this in the future and you can request one yourself on tumblr if you want ^v^)  
> (if you got to the end of this, you deserve an award)  
> (how about a cookie)  
> (or does chocolate ice cream sound better :))

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr! ([@pepperminthiya](http://pepperminthiya.tumblr.com/))  
> also, comments are hugely appreciated so if you're reading this, i'd love you a ton if you left me a thought below. <3


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